Sacrifice
by NotMyDivision221
Summary: Magnus Bane's life changed when he rescued Alexander Lightwood. He wants a life of comfort and normality for a man who had been tortured for fifteen years, but the task at hand is a difficult one. Just when Magnus thinks Alec is safe, Alec's abductors make a gruesome return, and they want their prized possession back. Contains disturbing content.
1. Chapter 1

**Helloooooo, readers. As I promised, I have started another Malec story. Now, it's going to be pretty graphic. If you're easily disturbed, stop here, back away slowly, and go down the yellow brick road of happiness. Anywho, hope y'all enjoy the first chapter. Reviews would be dandy!**

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><p>"Damnit!"<p>

I held the coffee cup at arm's length as scalding liquid sloshed over the sides and splashed against my skin and uniform. Mentally cursing myself for not getting a lid, I brought the cup to my lips and took a tentative sip. My tongue jerked away automatically from the hot coffee, but I forced myself to swallow a mouthful. When the liquid no longer threatened to spill over the rim, I set the cup down in the cup holder and reached for a napkin. Red splotches peppered my hand. Muttering under my breath, I made an attempt at wiping away the small spill on my pants. Thankfully my uniform was dark; the stain wouldn't be as noticeable.

Leaving the coffee at a safe distance, I released the cruiser's brake and pressed back down on the accelerator. The drive thru's curb disappeared from my rear-view mirror, though I could hear its mocking laughter follow me from a distance. Vehicles in front of me as well as behind slowed noticeably below the speed limit, eliciting a groan from me. For once, I wished they were speeding so I wouldn't be late for work. Finally, I pulled into the station's parking lot. I grabbed my coffee and a small box from the passenger seat before heading inside.

Luke Garroway was sitting at his desk, his eyes pasted to his computer screen as his fingers flew wildly over his keyboard. I dropped the box on his desk and tried to walk past without him noticing.

"Your coffee jump up and bite ya'?"

_Damn his vigilance. _I turned around and walked back to his desk. He leaned back in his chair, amusement twinkling in his blue eyes. A couple days worth of stubble had grown on his face, giving him a rugged look, though his smile was kind as always.

"The coffee and the drive thru curb were plotting against me," I said.

"I hope you read them their rights when you arrested them."

I tapped the box with my finger. "I brought you breakfast."

Luke lifted the lid and peered inside. He removed a powdered donut and took a bite. "You brought me breakfast for the rest of the week."

I reached inside and snatched a donut before Luke could yank the box away. He glared at me through narrowed eyes, chewing aggressively.

"You have to share," I chided, waggling my eyebrows and taking a bite.

"Don't make me get my taser."

Grinning, I walked down the aisle to my own desk. Crumbs on the shiny surface were the only evidence of my breakfast. I swept them away with my hand and took another swig of my coffee. As my computer booted to life, I reached down and opened one of my desk drawers. A folder sat on the top of a stack of papers. I lifted the file and plunked it on the desk. A small smiling face now stared up at me from the drawer. The poster itself was fifteen years old, though the boy depicted was only four. I'd been on the force for three years, and his face had been posted in the station since day one. I'd made myself a copy of the poster and looked into his case personally, but it had gone cold. Still, he remained in my desk as well as my thoughts, like a candle burning faintly in the farthest corner of my mind.

Closing the drawer, I set to work on finishing up my reports from the previous day. Phones rang and other officers walked up and down the aisle, talking loudly. I'd long since learned to shut them out. The reports were finished in under two hours. Luke stopped by not long after, offering for me to join him on patrol. I accepted without a second thought; going out on patrol with my partner was often the highlight of my day. We got in the car and pulled out of the parking lot, Luke at the wheel.

We drove through the city for half an hour, swapping jokes and watching carefully for careless drivers. Luke pulled over an SUV that had been driving erratically while I watched from the passenger seat. He got back into the cruiser, shaking his head.

"Damn kids and their cell phones," he mumbled.

Luke drove for a while longer. The radio squawked between us. At a stoplight, an impressive car pulled up on our right. I looked over and found two younger girls watching me. The passenger leaned forward in her seat so I could see her. They flashed wide smiles and batted their eyelashes. I inclined my head and let my lips tug into a small smile before turning away. The light turned green and the car pulled away, the girls giggling behind closed windows. I looked over at Luke to make a comment, but he was busy rubbing his face with his hand. He looked at himself in his mirror on occasion. I figured he had been completely oblivious to my little encounter.

"So is the beard a temporary thing?" I asked, keeping my eyes on my partner.

Luke instantly pulled his hand from his face and cleared his throat. "I'm giving it a try."

I cocked an eyebrow. "This wouldn't have anything to do with your new girlfriend, would it?"

"Jocelyn has in no way imposed on the decisions between me and my facial hair."

"Is it for Clary, then? Trying to be the hot step father?"

"Shut up," Luke grumbled, whacking me on the shoulder.

I punched him back. Luke was years older than me, but he always took my humor with good stride. Not only was he a great friend and partner, he was a learned teacher. He'd taken me under his wing when I'd joined the enforcement. Luke had taught me how to be diligent and vigilant, how to be strict but empathetic, and how to separate the impact of work life from my personal life. In truth, I'd lucked out; I couldn't have asked for a better partner.

Luke was in the middle of a sentence when a red convertible roared past us, blazing through a red light up ahead. He switched on the cruiser's lights and pressed down on the gas pedal. We followed the car for several blocks, but it took Luke turning on the sirens before the vehicle finally pulled over.

"I've got this one," I said as Luke parked behind the stopped car.

I got out and approached the vehicle cautiously. There was only one occupant in the car, but his body language betrayed his agitation. One arm was draped across the door, fingers strumming loudly. The man wore a dark pair of aviators, but I could feel his glare hiding behind the lenses.

"Good afternoon," I greeted him. When he said nothing, I continued, "Do you know why I pulled you over, sir?"

"Maybe because you're an asshole?" the man suggested.

I smiled. "License and registration please."

With an exaggerated sigh, the man reached over and dug through the compartment in front of the passenger seat. He then dug in his jeans for his wallet and chucked the requested items at me. I thanked him and headed back to the cruiser, but not before hearing him call me a douchebag under his breath.

Luke looked up as I climbed in beside him. "What's so funny?"

"This guy just screwed himself into paying the maximum fine."

I scribbled down the driver's information as Luke typed the license plate into the cruiser's laptop. Since there were no outstanding warrants on the guy, I made do with writing out the ticket. I got out and approached the car again. When I handed the driver his papers back, he took one look at the ticket amount and shot a glare at me, a tick in his jaw.

I grinned at him. "Have a nice day."

The driver pulled away from the curb after I stepped back from his car. He pulled into traffic and continued along at a decent speed like a model, law-abiding citizen. Shaking my head, I moved to head back to the cruiser but I stopped. Something stapled to the power pole on the sidewalk caught my attention. Closer inspection gave me déjà vu from that morning. A laminated copy of the same poster I had in my desk was staring back at me. The poster's edges were worn and the information had faded, but I still recognized the face. I'd never forgotten the mop of ebony hair, the bright smile, the eyes that were like sunlight shining through blue glass. With a sigh, I tore my eyes away and climbed back into the car.

Luke continued down the road without questioning my actions. Another fifteen minutes passed. We were headed back to the station when he finally snuck a glance at me. "What's going on inside that head, B?"

I looked over at him. "Huh?"

"We've worked together for three years; I can tell when something's bothering you. What's on your mind?"

I sighed and relented, "I've been thinking about a case."

"The Alexander Lightwood case?"

Sometimes Luke Garroway's intuitiveness astounded me. "Yeah."

"What about it?"

I looked out the window and watched the passing businesses. "Do you think there's still hope of finding him alive?"

Luke was quiet for a moment. "They say the best chances of finding a child alive are within twenty-four hours after the abduction. Forty-eight at the most. I hate to be a negative person, but it's been fifteen years since that kid went missing. I think the rescue has long since turned into a recovery."

"I think people have forgotten about him," I responded, keeping my voice even.

"Last I heard, his adopted brother is still out looking for him. He's travelled everywhere that there's been a possible sighting of Alexander." Luke flicked his eyes from the road over to me again. "And you haven't forgotten him."

_No, _I thought. _But I have stopped looking. _

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><p>The evening was dragging on. With most of the other officers now off duty, the station was quiet. Luke and I had caught up on our work and were now busying entertaining ourselves by chucking wads of paper from one end of the aisle into a trash can positioned at the other end. To keep it interesting, we tried making the shots from awkward positions and angles. We were behaving like teenagers. It was completely unprofessional, but that hadn't stopped us from doing it again and again.<p>

Our dispatcher, a woman with a stern face but a kind heart, poked her head out of her office. She quirked an eyebrow at our little game but chose to ignore it. "Got a call for you boys."

"Fire away, love," Luke said, hurrying to his desk for the car keys.

She listed off the address. "Possible domestic disturbance. Neighbor said her cat accidentally got out and she heard screaming from the house next door while she was in her backyard looking."

I hastily moved the garbage can to the side as we made for the exit. The day had been warm and sunny, but the night had brought an unpleasant chill. I shivered as I slipped into the passenger seat, though I couldn't tell if it was from the cold or from the adrenaline. Excitement rushed through my veins. Luke drove at high speed, weaving in and out of traffic with the skills of a stunt driver. He'd turned on the lights but kept the sirens off.

We pulled in front of an older, medium-sized home. It was completely dark, not a single light shining in any of the windows. The driveway was clear of any vehicles. As I stepped out of the car, I noticed a form illuminated in the front window of the house next door. A woman peered out at us curiously. I ignored her and followed Luke up the front steps of the house. We listened for any signs of a disturbance but heard nothing. Luke pounded his fist against the door. When no one answered, he knocked again and called, "Police Department."

We heard it then: a voice so faint it barely reached our ears. A voice calling for help.

My hand fell to my gun. Luke reached for his radio and called for backup. With hand signals I'd come to understand over the years, Luke motioned that he was going to go around back. I nodded and surveyed the area as he disappeared around the side of the house. I reached down and tried the doorknob. It stopped short of turning. Backing away from the door, I readied myself and kicked out hard. The door swung open and slammed against the wall inside. My weapon drawn, I moved through the doorway.

I flicked on light switches as I moved through the ground floor. The living room was free of any people or pets. Everything looked normal: there was a television and nice furniture, the carpet was clean, and there were no dirty dishes or pieces of garbage in sight. When I looked around, however, I noticed there were no pictures or knick knacks of any kind. The walls were completely devoid of any faces, which struck me as odd.

The kitchen was at the rear of the house. After making sure the coast was clear, I moved across the floor and unlocked a sliding door. Luke stepped into the house without a sound. He flicked his head, indicating for me to follow him. We walked silently down a hallway with three closed doors. One held a bedroom, which was empty. Another housed a small, clean bathroom. Luke opened the third door and we found ourselves staring through the darkness at the landing of a staircase. The stairs went both up to the second level and down to the basement. There was a quick moment of hesitation and then Luke began descending the staircase. I stayed where I was, checking over my shoulder constantly for any hiding intruders.

A light flicked on in the basement and I heard Luke's sharp intake of breath. "Jesus Christ."

"Luke?"

"Get down here, B."

I started down the stairs, hands still firmly grasping my gun. The stairs were old and creaky; every step I took elicited a groan from the wooden structures. I was actually thankful for the noise because it meant that anyone hiding upstairs wouldn't be able to sneak down without making a racket.

The sight that waited for me in the basement was nothing short of alarming. I stood with my jaw hanging open as Luke approached two scrawny figures sitting at the bases of two poles that extended from floor to ceiling. Both the victims were male and each of them had a ring of duct tape coiled around their eyes. One of them had tape around his mouth, the other had a loose ring of tape hanging around his neck. I realized he'd somehow managed to slip the tape off and call for help.

Luke crouched down next to the victim, the one who was able to speak, and began gently peeling the tape from his eyes, all the while murmuring soft words of comfort. I looked around, taking in the rest of the horrific surroundings. There was a tattered, stained mattress tucked away in the far corner. I cringed to see several bottles of lubricant scattered around it. A few cans of beer and what looked like prescription bottles were piled nearby. Several new rolls of duct tape were stacked in a silver tower. A blanket had been tossed out of reach from either of the young boys. Any windows in the basement had been boarded up, but that hadn't stopped the chill from creeping inside. It was nearly warmer outside than it was in this dungeon.

Luke finally got the tape free from the first victim's eyes. He muttered an apology when the adhesive pulled at the victim's hair. The boy blinked and squinted against the light. His unfocused gaze caught mine and I saw the brownish-gold tint in his irises. He winced as he tried to sit up straighter and tucked his knees tighter against his chest. I realized his, as well as the other victim's, ankles had been taped together. Luke set to work on freeing the victim's hands, which were bound behind the pole.

"What's your name?" Luke asked gently as he uncoiled the tape.

"S-Simon. Simon Lewis." The boy's voice was weak and hoarse. I wondered how long he'd been screaming before someone had finally heard him.

Luke stopped suddenly and gave me a knowing look over his shoulder. He must have seen the cluelessness in my eyes because he set back to work without a word. Tucking my gun away, I hurried to the other victim's side and reached to pull the tape from his mouth. The instant my fingers touched my skin, he jerked away from me, breathing hard through his nose.

"It's all right," I soothed. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He did not pull away from me when I touched him again, but neither did he relax. He sucked in a long breath and let out a shaky whimper when the tape slipped free of his face and dropped around his neck. I ignored the fact that it looked like a silver noose and started peeling the tape from his eyes. He hissed when it pulled at his hair but otherwise did not complain. Like Simon, he blinked rapidly when he was able to open his eyes. The hazel depths found mine.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Can you tell me your name?" I asked, positioning myself behind him to free his hands.

"Jordan Kyle."

Luke was unbinding Simon's feet, but his eyes flicked up knowingly again. I wondered what was running wildly through his mind, besides the obvious. I finally got Jordan's wrists and ankles free and offered my hands to help him up. He took both of them and attempted to stand. I pulled most of his weight, and he wobbled slightly on his feet.

Both boys were now standing. Luke and I chanced a look at each other, careful to keep our expressions stoic. Simon and Jordan were both malnourished; their bones were prominent and lacked traces of muscle. Ragged clothes hung loosely from their bodies. Jordan's dark hair was unkempt, but it looked as though it had been recently trimmed. Still, it hung partially in his eyes and the ends curled slightly at his shoulders and neck. Simon's hair was equally messy, but it was longer and straighter. A faded bruise was visible by Simon's left eye. Jordan's face was dirty but undamaged; however, finger-shaped bruises encircled his wrists.

"Can you tell us who did this to you?" Luke questioned.

Simon's eyes went wide. He looked too terrified to mention anything about his attacker.

Jordan spoke up, though he avoided both mine and Luke's gazes. "I've never seen their faces. Not once. They were always careful not to call each other by name. They never slipped up. Not once. Not _once_."

Jordan's voice broke and I saw tears slide down his cheeks, but I heard a hint of defiance in his voice. Though he was looking away, he held his chin up. An unseen strength lay beneath the young man's skin. I suspected he was a fighter. That would explain the bruises around his wrists. He'd had to have been held down. . .

Luke stepped away and murmured into his radio, requesting an ambulance. I watched Jordan and Simon carefully. It was important to keep them calm. Panic could send both of them bolting out of the house, which would compromise the needed confidentiality of the situation. Simon stared at the mattress in the corner with haunted eyes, but it was Jordan who broke first.

"I-I need to get out of the house," he stammered, wrapping his arms around himself.

"An ambulance is on the way," I assured him softly. "If you can just wait for—"

"I need out!" Jordan insisted, his eyes pleading.

"I'll go," Luke offered. He steered Jordan toward the staircase, a hand touching the boy's arm just in case he stumbled. "Simon?"

Simon hesitantly followed my partner to the staircase. But before he began his ascent, he turned around and rushed back to me. "Alec's still here."

"Where is he?"

"I don't know. They keep him somewhere." Simon's eyes brimmed with tears. "You can't leave him here. You have to find him."

There was only one place left in the house that we hadn't checked. I hoped Alec was in the room upstairs. I couldn't handle the thought of Alec being alone somewhere with the two attackers.

Promising Simon I'd find Alec, I helped him climb the staircase after Luke and Jordan. My partner then took the two victims down the hall and out of my sight. I drew my gun out of its holster and turned to finish climbing the staircase. A closed door waited for me at the top step. Slowly, I pushed it open and reached inside for the light switch. The overhead bulb blazed to life. I looked around, but, like all the other rooms in the house, the bedroom was empty.

The king-size bed had been perfectly made, free of any winkles or loose sheets. It had barred head and footboards, and stood higher off the wood-panelled floor. Similarly to the living room, there were no pictures or decorative items to be seen. There was a dresser opposite the bed, but every drawer was empty. A closet with no door held nothing, not even a forgotten hanger or dust bunny. The only piece of personalization to the room was a square navy blue rug at the foot of the bed. I found it odd that it was not at the side of the bed, where one would put his or her feet on the cold ground every morning, but clearly ordinary people did not live in this house. I shivered to think of why someone would need a rug to stand on at the foot of a bed, what that person would be doing, what that person would be watching.

Unlike the basement, the bedroom window had not been boarded up. Dark curtains had been pulled, but when I crossed the room and opened them, I found myself looking into the backyard, bare except for dark grass.

Simon had insisted that another victim was still in the house. There was nowhere for anyone to hide in this room. I checked under the bed for good measure but my search came up empty. I wondered if the attackers had hidden Alec somewhere inside the house. Once our backup arrived, we'd be able to do a sweep and check every nook and cranny.

After holstering my gun, I started for the staircase. As I walked, the toe of my boot caught on the raised edge of the rug. I stumbled forward and grabbed onto the footboard to catch myself. Cursing inwardly, I turned and looked down to fix the rug.

The corner of it had lifted when I'd tripped, and the first thing I noticed was a tiny adhesive patch stuck on the undersurface. Patches like that were not uncommon in houses with hardwood floors, but I wondered why it was so imperative that a rug stay put in an odd place in a room that had nothing else in it. Then I noticed the lines in the floor, lines that were out of place. I bent down and tore the rug from the flooring. The base of a rectangle was now visible, and the lines extended beneath the bed. Pulse hammering in my throat, I scampered to the side of the bed and began dragging it out of the way. The bed frame was on wheels, which made it easier to move, but the mattress and box spring were still heavy.

With the bed finally out of the way, I hurried back to the spot where the rug had been. I now stared down at a large rectangle cut into the floor. From the angle I'd been at while looking under the bed, the lines were indistinguishable from the floor. But now that I knew what I was searching for, I could see them clearly. Next I searched for some sort of door handle. The best I found was a small groove in the middle of the right side of the rectangle. After several attempts, I managed to get my finger underneath and lift the hidden door.

A long metal box that resembled a locker stared up at me. I reached down for the silver handle and cursed to find it was locked. I stood up and looked around. There had to be a key somewhere. Had the attackers taken it with them? But if they'd been sure that no one would ever find their hidden treasure, would they really have taken the extra precaution to keep the key on hand?

My stomach was doing flips as I strode back over to the bed. I lifted the first pillow and found nothing, but under the second pillow was a small, gleaming silver key. Snatching it up, I threw myself onto the floor beside the locker. It slipped into the handle with ease, but I hesitated before turning it. I did not know what was waiting inside for me. I braced myself, expecting the worst, and threw open the second door.

A small body was inside, curled on its side in the closest it could get to the fetal position in the tight confines. My eyes were wide with horror. It was another boy; young, judging by the size of him. His wrists had been taped together and his hands were up by his face. He was clad in a threadbare t-shirt and sweatpants. His feet were bare. A strand of black leather encircled the boy's neck, and rivulets of red stained his pale throat. I could only stare, too frightened that if I touched him I'd discover he was dead.

Suddenly the body moved. I gasped, startled. Upon hearing the sound, the boy slowly angled his face toward me. Shaggy black hair hung in his eyes, but I could still see the color through the dark strands. Recognition slammed into me like a truck driving at full speed.

"Alexander Lightwood?" I choked out.

His face remained impassive, but he slowly nodded. I let out the breath I'd been holding and ducked my face, trembling from head to toe. The boy that had been missing for fifteen years was now laying, alive, in front of me. He was no longer the four-year-old that had smiled at me from a missing persons poster for three years, but his face was unmistakeable. He was now nineteen, but his body was that of a young teenager. He was skinny, though not as bone-thin as Jordan and Simon. He did not have the muscle mass of healthy boys— men —his age. Even his frame was small. I guessed that standing at full height, Alexander would barely reach my shoulder.

"Alexander, I'm with the Police Department. I'm going to get you out of here. Are you able to stand?"

Alec shook his head. Positioning myself carefully, I reached down into the locker and scooped him up into my arms. His shockingly light weight distressed me more than it relived me. I lifted him from the locker and readjusted him. Weak, Alec let his head fall against my shoulder. I angled his body carefully so I would not bump him against the walls as I descended the stairs. We moved slowly, and as we reached the halfway point to the landing, Alec reached up and slipped his bound arms around my neck. He turned his face into my shoulder and held on tightly. It brought tears to my eyes as I thought that this was the first time in fifteen years that Alexander Lightwood felt safe.

No one was in the house as I sluggishly maneuvered my way down the hall, but I could hear voices outside. The front door had been left open and I could see red and blue flashing lights on the floor as I rounded the corner.

Before we could get outside, Alec turned his face and craned his neck toward my ear. His breath was warm against my neck. The first words out of the nineteen-year-old's mouth were: "I want my mom."

My heart fractured into millions of tiny fragments. All I could to was hold Alec tighter against me. I couldn't bear to tell him. . . Not now. He said nothing more as I carried him outside to the waiting ambulance. Eyes of surrounding officers and curious bystanders were on me as I brought Alexander over to a paramedic. She wheeled over a gurney and instructed me to set him down. I gently placed Alec's lower half on the stretcher, but his arms remained around my neck. When I tenderly pulled them up and over my hand, Alec's hand shot out and snatched the front of my uniform. He did not say a word as he clutched onto me. It took two paramedics to pry his fingers away.

I stood in a stunned trance as they loaded Alec into an ambulance and sped off, sirens wailing. He'd been rescued only moments before and he had already been taken away again.


	2. My Morphine

**Hey! So there wasn't going to be a chapter this week, but I made a schedule switch. Unfortunately that means the next chapter won't be posted for about 2 weeks. Sorry about that. But I'm so glad you all are enjoying this! The response has been wonderful! Thank you for your reviews. Love some more! Indulge, my friends!**

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><p>I sat hunched over in my chair, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose. My head was pounding from the overbearing amount of information Luke had just given me. I could feel the older man's eyes on me as I massaged my temples. He said nothing, waiting patiently as I slowly absorbed every word he had said.<p>

Simon Lewis had gone missing at the age of seven. He'd been at the playground with his mother when he had suddenly disappeared. Like Alexander Lightwood's case, there had been no witnesses to attest who had taken him. The entire community had set out on a frantic search for the missing child, but the lack of evidence led them to nothing but dead ends. He'd been found nine years later, two states over from his hometown.

Jordan Kyle had been abducted at the age of nine. It had been determined that he'd been kidnapped on his way to a friend's house. Because the friend lived nearby, Jordan had been allowed to walk over on his own. In the seemingly safe neighborhood, there had been no reason for worry of any danger. Jordan's mother had told investigators that she'd assumed her son had simply forgotten to call to tell her he'd arrived at his friend's; it had happened before. Only when the friend called Jordan's house a few hours later to ask where he was were the police notified. No one had seen anything; no one had heard anything. Blockades set up on all main highways had turned up nothing. Jordan had been found seven years later, four states over from his hometown.

As for Alexander Lightwood. . . The boy who had been missing for fifteen years had never even left the city he'd been taken from.

I should have felt exhilarated by the rescue. Luke and I had delivered three abduction victims into the safe, caring arms of medical professionals and protective services. Simon and Jordan's families had been notified and were currently en route to the hospital. I wanted to share the relief and joy of reuniting the families, but the image of Alec haunted me. I saw his gaunt body every time I blinked, saw his vacant blue eyes staring up at me, felt his fingers clenching the front of my uniform.

"You should go home," Luke said, interrupting my dark thoughts. "Get some sleep. We'll tackle this tomorrow."

"I doubt I'll be able to sleep after this," I mumbled.

Luke reached across his desk and put his hand on my shoulder. "Don't focus on the victims, focus on the survivors. All three boys are alive and safe. Let's be thankful for that."

I nodded and stood from the chair. There was still a mountain of paperwork sitting on my desk, but I left it behind and made for the exit. Inside the cruiser, it took nearly three attempts to get my shaky hand to put the key into the ignition. The engine finally roared to life and I pulled out of the parking lot and into the street. Traffic was slow again but I couldn't have cared less. My mind wandered as I drove to my house. I wondered how the victims— survivors —were doing at the hospital. Had they been separated or kept together? Were they being badgered by the police for interviews? It was nearly dawn, which meant Simon had probably been reunited with his family. Jordan's parents might be at the hospital already if they had flown in. But Alec. . .was anyone with him?

Muscle memory had me pulling the cruiser into my small driveway, but before I put the car in park I threw it into reverse, backed out, and sped toward the hospital.

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><p>"Cat!"<p>

The woman standing at the front desk looked up as I called her name. She scribbled something onto a clipboard and handed it to a nurse before jogging over to me. Her white lab coat billowed around her as she approached. She stood on her toes as we embraced. I inhaled the comforting scent of my closest friend. As she pulled away, I curled one of the tendrils framing her face around my finger. It fell back against her cheek and she nervously tucked it behind her ear.

"You colored your hair again," I said softly.

"The auburn was fading. I decided to go blonde this time."

Catarina Loss was an unusual beauty. She was tall and slender, and her milky skin complemented her starlit blue eyes. Her laugh was infectious and she was fiercely loyal. What set her apart from other women was her naturally white hair. It had been white gold when she was young, but over the years the blonde had started to fade. I'd always found her snow-like mane to be striking, but Catarina hated the color. She was constantly dying her hair, switching from redhead to brunette to hair as dark as a raven's feathers.

"You look wonderful."

Catarina smiled and touched my elbow. "How are you doing? I heard it was you who found them."

"Just Alexander. Luke found Simon and Jordan."

"Don't be so modest. You saved their lives."

I felt heat creep into my cheeks. I took to praise about as well as one takes to an allergic reaction. Switching the conversation's direction, I asked, "How are you doing, Cat?"

She nodded and tucked her hands into her coat pockets. "All three boys are under my care. Simon and Jordan are with their families."

"And Alec?"

"Nurses and officers have offered to stay in the room with him." Cat sighed. "He doesn't want anyone around him."

I lowered my voice. "Has he been informed about his family?"

"An officer sat down with him early this morning. Poor kid hasn't said a word since."

"Do you think I can see him?"

Catarina stared into my eyes, considering it. She nodded and motioned for me to follow her. I was glad I hadn't changed out of my uniform. The last thing I wanted to do was compromise Cat's job as a doctor by getting her into trouble with her superiors. I'd never asked her to break any rules for me, but in this situation I had the advantage. She would be able to tell me everything I needed to know about Alec's condition, what was in store for him. For some reason, I _had_ to know. And I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip away.

Cat led me down the hall to a room with a window. She peeked inside before beckoning to me with her hand. I cautiously crept to the window and peered into the room. Alec was in bed, a blanket pulled up to his waist. His blue eyes were staring down at his feet. An IV stuck out of his left hand. White gauze was wrapped around his neck where there had once been a strap of black leather. Under the hospital's bright lights he looked even paler and withered than before. He was the human embodiment of suffering.

I let out a long, shaky breath. Catarina placed her hand on my back, her eyes watching me with worry. My heart was pumping agony into my veins. I'd seen victims before: survivors of horrible car wrecks, women marked by spousal abuse, fatalities of accidents of all forms. Why was _this_ hurting me so much?

"Have you looked at him?" I asked without taking my eyes from Alec.

Catarina hesitated. "I performed Alec's physical, yes." Her wary tone suggested she knew where I was going with this.

"Tell me what you found, Cat." I turned to face her. "Please."

Again, she hesitated. I could see an argument poised on her curved lips, but when her blue irises fell to the patch on my uniform her shoulders relaxed. She glanced around, searching for anyone with prying eyes and ears.

"The first things I noticed are that Alexander is seriously malnourished and underdeveloped," she began. "He's not as starved as Simon and Jordan, but I reckon he was being fed just enough to keep him alive. As for his development, he's small for his age. His muscle mass is below normal. He could barely stand on two feet for some of the tests I gave him. Most likely he hasn't been getting any exercise for the past fifteen years. It was mentioned that he was found in some sort of locker. The majority of his time was probably spent locked up in there. His body would be unable to grow in such a cramped space. This is just speculation, but I believe the abductor intended to keep Alec as small as possible. He or she wanted to keep Alec's body as close its child form as possible."

My stomach twisted. It sickened me to think that someone had seen Alec's frail body with desire-fueled eyes. I knew without being told that another motive for keeping Alec small was to decrease the chance of Alec fighting back.

"What else?" I prompted.

"His vision, hearing, and speech are all fine, but I highly recommend that he sees a psychiatrist on a daily basis. He'll also need a tutor; he lacks reading and mathematical skills, as well as everything in between."

My mind jumped to the one tutor that I knew personally. She was an outstanding teacher. She was good at what she did, but she was one of the last people I wanted to see again. Our history was a bumpy road, full of potholes and skid marks. I doubted she would be pleased to see me on her doorstep asking for a favor.

"There'll be scarring around his neck. We have a good plastic surgeon here. He may be able to help soften their appearance, but Alec has given no inclinations of meeting with him."

"Scarring from what?"

"There was a piece of leather around Alexander's neck when he was brought in. It was actually a spiked dog collar. The spikes had been filed to be sharp enough to pierce skin. Each of them were embedded into Alec's flesh. From the scars' appearance, that wasn't the first time Alec had worn the collar. The ones at the front of his throat are worse, which leads me to believe Alec was choked from behind. Maybe to be subdued."

"His throat wasn't damaged?"

"No, his larynx is fine. The spikes were strategically placed to avoid any serious damage."

_To avoid serious damage or so the abductor could continue to hear Alec's screams?_ I shook my head and looked back into the room. Alec had part of the blanket wadded in his hands. He rubbed his thumbs over the soft material. His head was bent so that his hair fell into his eyes. My fingers twitched, desiring to push it back from his face.

"There's more," Catarina said grimly.

I knew what was coming. This was the darkest shadow of the nightmare. I was afraid to hear what Cat had to say next, but it was imperative to get every detail. If we wanted to help Alec, we could not pretend the darkest pieces of information did not exist.

"All three boys have anal scarring. The number and severity of the scars show that they were likely sexually assaulted from a very young age. That being said, Alec's scars were the worst out of the three boys."

"Damnit."

I rubbed a hand over my face. It shouldn't have surprised me that Alec had obviously been the 'favorite.' He'd been taken first and he'd been locked in a separate room from the others. But that did not soften the information's blow.

"You should go in and talk to him."

I blanched at her suggestion. "Me?"

"The paramedics said he didn't want to let go of you. It might do him good to see a familiar face."

My mouth bobbed open and closed as I searched for an excuse, but when I turned and saw Alec alone in his room, I nodded reluctantly. Cat smiled encouragingly and took my arm, pulling me to the closed door.

"I'll have a nurse bring a tray of food. Try to get him to eat. He always stares at the tray with starved eyes but he never touches anything."

I nodded and Cat pushed the door open. Alec jumped, startled by the sudden noise, and tugged the blanket closer to his chest. Anxiety glittered in his blue eyes as he watched Cat but his fingers loosened around the blanket when I stepped in. I offered a friendly smile, which Alec did not return.

"Alexander, you remember Magnus Bane? He came by to say hello."

Alec said nothing, which did little to ease my apprehension. Cat did a quick check of Alec's vitals and inspected his IV. Alec kept his head down when she was near him. His body was noticeably tense. I wondered if his lack of social interactions was causing him to be shy or if one of his abductors had been female, which could result in timidity around all women.

Cat dragged a chair from the corner of the room to Alec's bedside and placed her hands on her hips. "All right. I'll give you two some privacy. See you in a little while, Alec."

I gave my friend a nod as she left. She stopped in front of the window and gave me a thumbs up before walking away. Nervous, I wiped my clammy palms on my pants and slowly lowered myself into the chair. Alec's head was still ducked and he did not peek at me from under his hair.

I kept my voice gentle and calming. "How are you feeling, Alec?"

He shrugged.

_Not helping. _"Do you need anything? Another blanket?"

He shook his head.

"Do you mind if I call you Alec? Or do you prefer Alexander?"

I might have imagined it, but I thought I saw Alec flinch slightly when I said his full name. The nineteen-year-old slowly angled his face toward mine, though his shaggy hair still hung in his eyes.

"You can call me Alec," he said, his deep but soft voice an odd contrast to his fragile body.

Before I could say more, a nurse walked in and set a tray on the table on Alec's other side. She smiled at the two of us and left without a word. Alec stared at the tray wordlessly for a long while. The warm smell of chicken broth wafted over to me. Alec slowly tore his eyes from the tray and stared down at the blanket again, twisting the material between his hands.

"Are you hungry" I asked.

He nodded without looking at me. Slowly, so as not to alarm him with any sudden movements, I rose from my seat and wandered around the bed. I lifted the lid from the tray and wheeled the table so it was situated in front of Alec. I thought I saw tears pooling in his eyes as he beheld the broth, cracks, and cup of water.

"Eat as much as you like."

His blue irises drifted upward to meet mine. I read suspicion as well as astonishment in his expression. With a quivering hand, he reached for the spoon and scooped up some broth. He blew on the liquid a couple times before sliding the spoon into his mouth. His eyes closed with satisfaction and he went for another spoonful. I watched him carefully to make sure he did not eat too fast. His starved stomach could only handle so much. As he munched on a cracker, I moved away and seated myself again.

"Why haven't you been eating when the nurses bring you food?" I asked curiously.

Alec stopped chewing for a moment but reached for his water instead of answering me.

I thought for a moment. "Were you waiting for permission?"

He stirred his broth with his spoon and nodded. My heart clenched when I imagined this starving young man watching nurses taking away his cold food not because he had refused to eat it, but because they had not given him permission to eat it. How much more torture could he handle?

I knew I now had to tread carefully. "Why do you need permission to eat, Alec?"

Alec abruptly stopping stirring his broth. He stiffened and leaned back against the pillows. I fought the urge to wince as he turned his despondent eyes to me and whispered, "Bad things happen when you don't get permission."

My inner investigator wanted to know what kind of things, but to save Alec the trauma of reliving such events, I moved on. "Are you sure you don't need anything? More pillows? How's your pain?"

Alec ducked his head again, hiding behind a mop of ebony hair. His shoulders started to shake ever so slightly. I thought he was laughing until I saw teardrops splatter against the blanket. Alarmed, I jumped to my feet and reached for him.

"Alec?"

He wiped at his eyes with his wrist. When he looked at me I saw that the whites were pink and glimmering. "You're so nice, Magnus."

I straightened, baffled. I'd thought that something I'd said had upset him, that maybe I'd pushed too far, but it had been my kindness that had affected him. It troubled me to ponder what his abductors had been like when my asking if he needed another pillow had brought him to tears.

Alec wiped at his eyes again and took a shaky breath. There was still a teary streak on his cheek that I wanted to wipe away with my thumb, but I refrained from touching him. I did not know how he would respond to another man's touch, even if my intentions were innocent and gentle. In the back of my brain, I could hear Alec's voice repeating my name over and over. I'd never been fond of my name, but why did it sound so good when Alec said it?

Movement by the window caught my attention. I looked up and blinked in surprise to see the chief of police staring back at me. He flicked his head, indicating for a private word.

"Excuse me for a second."

Alec's hand darted out and snatched my wrist as I turned. He released me the second I turned back to face him. His expression was fearful and apologetic. Something told me he'd grabbed someone before and it had not ended well for Alec.

"Are you coming back?" he whispered, twisting the blanket in his hands.

"Of course," I answered immediately. "I'll just be a moment."

He nodded and attempted to smooth the wrinkles in the blanket before reaching for his broth. I exited the room and closed the door behind me. Hodge Starkweather regarded me with intense, curious eyes. His hair had grayed recently, but his eyes were steely and his stance held the same power of intimidation he'd had when I'd first met him.

"Shouldn't you be at home?" he questioned.

"I just thought I'd come in and see how he was doing," I responded honestly.

Hodge looked through the window at Alec. "He seems to be doing better now."

"Were you in to see him?"

"I was the one who told him about his family."

I sighed. "I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Difficult to say," Hodge muttered. "The kid didn't even respond. Just stared at his feet, blocked everything out. I don't think the reality has set in yet."

"Have you heard any news on his brother?"

According to his file, Alec had an older adoptive brother named Jace. He was now Alec's only remaining relative, but authorities had been unable to contact him. Word had been that Jace had left the country years ago. His trail led to locations around the world, and with no indications of where he was heading next, finding him was at a standstill. Our best chance was the news of Alec's rescue reaching Jace's ears, prompting him to contact us.

"Nothing useful. Some believe he's halfway around the world, probably on some godforsaken island or in the middle of the desert."

I folded my arms across my chest, watching Alec as he leaned back against the pillows and winced when his neck pressed into them. "Adopted or not, how could his brother just up and leave the country?"

"Rumor has it that Jace has been travelling everywhere that there's been a possible sighting of Alec. He took matters into his own hands."

"Either that or he's sitting on a beach somewhere with his inheritance," I said bitterly.

"Maybe he did leave the country to get away," Hodge agreed. "But can you blame him? First his brother was kidnapped, then he lost the rest of his adoptive family. Maybe he just needed to leave it all behind, to start new. You can't grieve forever."

I nodded, considering it. "So what does this mean for Alec?"

"Alexander is nineteen, a legal adult. Maryse and Robert left the house and all their possessions to their children in their will. With Isabelle gone and Alec missing, Jace inherited everything. He put the house up for sale when he left."

"Which means Alec has nothing."

"The hospital will keep him here for as long as is necessary, but when Alec is cleared for discharge, I'm afraid that he'll have to fend for himself. I'm sure we can find a shelter to set him up in."

"No," I said, surprising both myself and my chief. "Absolutely not. A shelter isn't safe for him, not in his condition."

"What do you suggest, then?"

I looked Hodge dead in the eye. "I have an spare room. He can stay with me."

He scratched his bearded chin. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"There's no one left to keep him safe," I said. "But someone has to, and it's going to be me."


	3. Drowning

**Hey, guys and gals. As it turns out, I'm having a hard time staying away from this story. I can barely focus on my other one. Even today at work I was thinking about it. (Guess who already has the death scene mapped out?) Anyway, I'm thinking the next chapter we'll be getting into a little bit of what happened to Alec. I'm not sure if the next chapter will be posted on Sunday, as usual. Probably ;) Anyway, it's now 1:30am and I'm tired. Enjoy! And thank you for all the reviews! I've hung a few up on my wall for inspiration! You are great! Every single one of you!**

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><p>The car suddenly jerked to the left and immediately swerved back to the right, causing me to smack my head against the window. Wincing, I rubbed my forehead and glared over at Luke. His smug smile made me roll my eyes.<p>

"What are you trying to do?" I groaned. "Crack my skull open?"

"You're not paying attention to me," Luke whined.

"Sorry." I pulled out my phone to check the time. Only twenty minutes until my shift ended. "You were saying?"

"You going on a date or something?"

"I'm going back to the hospital to check on Alec."

Luke let out a huff. When I glanced over at him, I caught him chewing the inside of his cheek, a habit that was made visible when he was contemplating something. He said nothing further, but I recognized the way his eyes stared dead ahead, glimpsing far more than just the road and traffic. Luke did not have a fondness for lectures, which was one of his better qualities. He always had an opinion but his voice was quiet and reserved. He kept his thoughts to himself, but I knew that Luke was a wise man, experienced in life's twists and turns. Sometimes it was beneficial to hear what he had to say, even if it was not what I wanted to hear.

"Spit it out, Garroway."

Luke stopped at a red light and answered without looking at me, "I'm just concerned that you're getting a little too invested in Alexander Lightwood."

"He doesn't have anybody to take care of him," I said, not defensively. "He can't go through this alone."

"So you've taken it upon yourself to be his family?"

I shifted in my seat. "I wouldn't say family. . ."

"B, you're a kind-hearted young man, and I think it's great that you want to help Alec, but I don't want him to become your burden. If you keep doing what you're doing, Alec is going to get attached to you. Therapy and medication won't heal him, not for a very long time. You're treading water, B, and I don't want to see you get dragged under trying to keep someone else afloat."

I nodded, unsure of what to say. Admitting to Luke that I was planning on offering Alec the spare room in my house was probably a bad idea. I knew my partner would always have my back, and even if he was concerned about my choices, he'd never leave me to struggle on my own. What Luke needed to understand was that I shared that same protective camaraderie with Alec. Every time I looked into those blue eyes, Alec's struggle slowly became my own.

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><p>With visiting hours starting up again in the afternoon, the hospital was crowded with the bustling of patients, visitors, and staff. Thankfully, my uniform was once again working in my favor; people recognized the police station's gear and cleared a path for me. I made a beeline for the hospital's gift shop, mulling over the best option for a thoughtful yet subtle gift to take up to Alec's room. There was a wide display of helium balloons in every color and greeting. Cards and candy bars shared a space by the far wall. I dismissed them all when I remembered that Alec could not read and his stomach was still too sensitive for chocolate. I raked my fingers through my hair as my eyes skimmed over cheap jewelry, lottery tickets, and baby clothes. Maybe this was a stupid idea.<p>

As I turned to leave, something small in a nearby display caught my eye. I approached the case, drawn to this small item. Without the slightest hesitation, I slid the door open, pulled it out, and carried to up to the till, my free hand already reaching for my wallet.

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><p>Cat was hurrying down the hallway in my direction, her nose nearly pressed flat against the clipboard in her hands. I stuck my hand out and stopped her before she accidentally bumped into me. She jumped, startled, but smiled warmly when she recognized me. Her tousled hair had been pulled back into a ponytail, making it easier to see the fatigue in her blue eyes.<p>

"Hey, you," she said.

"Hey yourself." I scanned her up and down. "Everything okay? You look worn out."

"I'm covering for another doctor for a bit today. All these extra patients are going to give me wrinkles." She rubbed her eye. "Plus Simon and Jordan are being discharged today."

"What? Already?"

"Don't worry. We're keeping Alec for a few more days. Simon and Jordan are being transferred to the care of their parents, and both of them have agreed to see psychiatrists on a regular basis. There's not much else we can do for them; we'd only be keeping them cooped up."

I nodded. "That's great, Cat. I'm happy for them."

She was quiet for a moment. "You're envious of them."

"It does seem unfair that they can go home, two broken families now whole again," I sighed. "But I'm not resentful. It's uplifting that something more than devastation rose from this tragedy."

Cat reached out and touched my arm, her eyes both sad and comforting. She flicked her head, indicating to Alec's room. "We gave him some sedatives to help him sleep. He might be a little drowsy if he wakes up, but he should be coherent. I've got to run. Talk to you later?"

I waved at her as she took off down the hall again, scribbling on her clipboard. Quietly opening and closing the door, I slipped into Alec's room and seated myself in the chair at his bedside. He was curled on his side, his legs tucked slightly. The blanket was pulled up to his shoulders and his hair fell over his eyes.

Just as I settled back into my chair, Alec's eyes snapped open and he jackknifed upright. His hands clenched in the blanket and he wobbled slightly. Still under the sedative's lull, he struggled to keep his wild, unfocused eyes open. But his slender body was still tense, his breathing panicked and ragged.

"Alec, it's just me," I said soothingly. "It's Magnus."

"Sorry," he slurred drowsily. "I thought you were. . . someone else."

Even in his drug-induced slumber Alec had felt someone watching him. Frightening eyes scoured him even when he was not awake. He was haunted by a nightmare, haunted by his life.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

Alec nodded and settled back into bed. Once nestled comfortably against the pillows, he turned his somnolent gaze to me.

I had to fight to pull my eyes away from his. "I brought you something."

He looked at the item in my hand through half-lidded eyes. A small smile tugged at his lips. "It's pretty. What is it?"

I was about to laugh, thinking the sedatives had muddled Alec's brain, but I caught myself. He'd been abducted when he was four years old, and he'd spent the next fifteen years locked inside a bare house with at least one pedophile. I doubted he'd retained any of his memories from before he had been abducted. Not to mention the puzzled curiosity in his expression seemed to be genuine.

"It's a flower." I reached over and set it on the bedside table, noticing how Alec's eyes sluggishly followed the gift. "A rose, to be more precise."

The flower had been the simplest arrangement in the gift shop's display case. It was a fully bloomed white rose, trimmed to the pedicle, surrounded by fanned out mint green leaves. A small, spherical crystal vase completed the arrangement. The snowy, unblemished petals brought to mind purity and gentleness. The second I'd seen the arrangement, Alec's name had flashed in my head like a Vegas billboard.

"It's pretty," Alec said again, but his smile began to fade.

"Is something wrong?"

Alec's eyes slid shut and his head began to loll to the side. "What do I. . . have to do. . . to . . ."

His last words were muffled, mixed with his soft snoring, but I thought I'd heard: 'to repay you.' I shivered and scrubbed a hand over my face. I could have been mistaken, but my guess was that Alec felt the need to express his gratitude for my gift. And I doubted that any of the methods Alec had been trained to show appreciation involved remaining fully clothed.

Soft rapping on the window drew my attention elsewhere. A wide grin spread across my lips when I recognized the face standing outside the room. Overcome by the sedative's dosage, Alec had not woken up. I got up and left the room, quietly closing the door behind me.

"Magnus Bane."

I found myself enveloped in a tight embrace. Laughing, I slapped the man on the back and pushed at his shoulders so I could get a glimpse of him. Standing just over six foot four, with broad shoulders and solid planes of muscle, Valen Morgenstern was a warrior of a man. His short blonde hair was slicked back as usual, and his dark eyes were unnerving but warm. Like Hodge Starkweather, Valen had the power to intimidate anyone just by being present in a room. But where Hodge was quiet and calculating, Valen was audacious and outspoken. Those two traits had caused tension between Valen and his coworkers back when he'd worked at the station. Valen and I had gotten along well enough, but Luke had always loathed the man. He told me he'd never trusted Valen, and claimed the man to be a "two-faced asshole," as he put it. Luke had barely been able to contain his excitement when Valen had transferred to another precinct.

"I couldn't believe my ears when I heard it was you who found Alexander Lightwood. Forgive me, but I tried to picture you, a shy, shrimp of a police officer, carrying another guy out of a house and nearly fell out of my chair laughing."

I took the jab in good stride. "I never envisioned myself as a hero either."

Valen folded his arms over his chest. "How's Luke? Still a surly little pig?"

"He's doing well. He was also a part of the rescue mission"

"So I heard," he muttered, his lip curling slightly.

I knew the rivalry between Luke and Valen had never been amended, so I switched gears. "What are you doing all the way down here?"

"I'm just passing through. A convention just west of here has demanded my presence." Valen rolled his eyes. "Hours upon hours of meetings in a cramped room with wheezing men chowing down on donuts. I'd rather do paperwork."

"I've got some paperwork you can do."

Valen snorted and ruffled my hair. "Don't be such a smartass, pretty boy."

I nudged my arm toward Alec's room. "I'd tell you to come say hello, but he's out cold."

"Let him sleep," he said, raising his hand to decline my offer. "No doubt he needs it. Maybe I'll stop by on the way back."

"I'll keep you posted."

Valen glanced down at his watch. "I should probably run, kid. It was nice seeing you. Congrats on the rescue."

I pulled my ex-co-worker into a one-armed hug and waved him off as he sauntered down the hall. He tipped an invisible hat to a group of nurses standing by the front desk and winked at them. They exploded into a fit of giggles. Rolling my eyes, I slipped back into Alec's room and waited for him to wake up.

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><p>"It even smells pretty." Alec held the flower up to his nose for the fifth time and inhaled. He cradled the gift in his lap, admiring the petals.<p>

"I'm glad you like it."

"You never told me what you wanted."

I cleared my throat. "Pardon me?"

Alec's eyes were hidden behind his hair as his finger skimmed over the rim of the vase. "You never told me what you wanted in return for the gift."

"You don't owe me anything," I said, wiping my sweaty hands on my pants, uncomfortable.

Alec pushed his hair out of his face, revealing his confusion. "But I have to—"

"Excuse me."

Alec and I glanced over at the door and gasped in unison to see a mass of people watching us. Simon Lewis and Jordan Kyle stood at the front of the group. Both of them wore tentative smiles. Their faces had regained some color and their facial bones were not as prominent.

Through the corner of my eye I noticed Alec slinking farther into the bed, cowering, trying to make himself as small as possible. It was not Simon and Jordan making him uneasy, but the other unfamiliar pairs of eyes scrutinizing him from the doorway.

"Officer Bane," Jordan greeted me.

I stood from my chair as he approached, but he walked straight past my extended hand and wrapped me in a tight hug. After a moment, I returned the hug, patting him on the back.

When he stepped away, Jordan said, "We just wanted to say goodbye to Alec."

"Of course."

I meant to sneak outside the room to give the boys some privacy, but the families of Jordan Kyle and Simon Lewis barricaded me inside. After accepting my inability to escape, I stood at the back of the room awkwardly, my hands clasped in front of me.

Jordan was the first to hug Alec. He was bigger in stature than Alec, but the way Alec's thin arms held the sixteen-year-old protectively and lovingly made my heart clench.

Without letting go, Jordan whispered, "Thank you for everything you did for me. I wouldn't have survived if it hadn't been for you." He pulled back and handed Alec a small piece of paper. "If you ever need anything, give me a call. I'll always be there for you."

Simon stepped up next and he and Alec held each other tightly. I could hear sniffling from the emotional mothers standing beside me, and I had to blink back tears of my own. When Alec's arms fell away, Simon reached up and grabbed his shoulder.

"You sacrificed yourself for me, and I will never be able to thank you enough for that. But I will be eternally grateful for what you did for me, what you did for us. I'm sorry about your family, Alec, but please know that you are loved. There will always be a place for you in my heart and in my home." He pointed at the piece of paper in Alec's hand. "My number is on there, too. You're not alone. You've got us."

Alec stared down at the paper in his shaking hand. Tears rolled down his cheeks. Amidst his sadness I could also see frustration. He stared with such an intensity that I thought the paper was going to burst into flames. But I came to the realization that he was trying to make sense of the markings on the paper. Alec's only friends had given him something special but he could not understand the meaning. I thought back to the day in my fifth grade math class when my teacher had called on me to answer a question. Hands had shot up around me; it felt as though everyone had known the answer except for me. The question had been so simple, but the humiliation and frustration of my perplexity had stolen the air from my lungs, made me feel like I was drowning.

Alec whispered a quick thank you to each of the boys before returning his full attention to the flower and piece of paper in his lap. He hunched over them, as if protecting the gifts with his body. Jordan and Simon turned away, smiling. Neither of them seemed particularly put out or surprised by Alec's behavior. They hurried over to their families and began to filter out of the room. I made sure Alec was too preoccupied to notice my absence before starting after them.

"Simon, wait."

The entire group stopped and turned to face me.

"Can I speak with you for a moment?"

Jordan stepped forward, offering to come along, but Simon shook his head and stopped him. He then shuffled over to me, rubbing his arm nervously.

I lowered my voice so the others could not hear. "What did you mean when you said Alec sacrificed himself for you?"

Simon took a long while to gather his thoughts before replying, "They used to just threaten us, warning us that if we didn't do what they wanted, they'd beat us. They touched me and forced me to do things to them, but they had not yet—" Simon took a deep breath, "—_raped_ me. The first time they tried to do it, Alec begged them to take him instead. And they did. Every time they came for me after that, Alec did the same thing. He sacrificed his body for mine, and they were brutal to him. They made me watch sometimes."

My legs went numb beneath me. I placed my hand on the wall to steady myself. Simon, who was reliving his horrific memories, was balanced on his feet. His eyes were haunted but his back was tall, strong against the weight on his shoulders.

"Alec tried but he couldn't fend them off forever. He talked me through it when it happened, tried to calm me down. I could barely hear him over my own screaming, but he never stopped trying to comfort me. They beat him for that. Regardless, every time those men came into the basement, Alec offered himself so they would leave me alone.

"It was no different when Jordan came along. Alec fought it for as long as he could, but they eventually took Jordan, too. I was too terrified to say anything. I shut my eyes. Alec tried to talk Jordan through it, just like he had with me. They beat me for closing my eyes and they beat Alec for not shutting up when they told him to.

"With there being three of us, the men came down more often. Alec begged them not to hurt us; he begged them to take him. Every. Single. Time. It didn't matter if they'd already taken him in exchange for me. When they tried to go after Jordan ten minutes later, Alec offered himself again. God, the things they made him do. . . The things they did to him. It didn't matter if it was sex or beatings, Alec was our shield. They separated Alec from us not long after, but we could still hear him shouting at them to leave us alone. He told them that we were just kids." Simon's watery eyes lifted to meet mine. "But Alec was just a kid, too."

When I said nothing, Simon wiped his eyes with his sleeve and turned away. I let him go. Before I went back into Alec's room, I sat on the floor in the hall and held my face in my hands. Tears threatened but did not spill over. I was feeling everything: rage, despair, admiration, misery, bewilderment. Luke had thought that Alec was sinking and I was going to get dragged under trying to help him. But he was wrong. Alec was treading water. I was the one who was drowning.


	4. Home

**Hey! I am so sorry, everyone. I meant to upload this much sooner, but it took me way longer to write this chapter than expected. It's a doozy. A whole whopping 14 pages, so get comfortable. I was going to cut it short, but I couldn't bring myself to stop writing. The sadness is addictive. Didn't get into Alec's story as much as I would have liked, but that just means that it's on the way. Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Please let me know what you think! Cheers. **

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><p>The station was buzzing, phones ringing every twenty seconds and officers running up and down the aisle. Tensions were running high due to the irritating pestering of the media. Reporters were constantly attempting to acquire snippets of information regarding Alec, Simon, and Jordan. After threatening the media with harassment charges, the number of calls coming in had lowered considerably. For the sanity and safety of the three boys, we were determined to keep them out of the media as much as possible. They were not to be bombarded by paparazzi or swarmed by reporters demanding answers to their questions. But there were still people who could not stifle their curiosity, who would do anything just to get a sniff at the reopened case.<p>

I sat at my desk, engrossed in the stacks of paperwork piled in front of me like a fortress. My pen slid across the paper fluidly as I filled in the blank spaces with the appropriate information. My left hand reached for my cup of coffee and I brought it to my lips without stopping the gliding of my pen. Setting my mug down, I raked my fingers through my hair and squeezed the back of my neck. A familiar tension was gathering there, one that accumulated from sitting hunched over too long. Of course, it did not help that I had barely slept over the past couple days. I thought of Alec when I was awake, and I dreamt about him when I was asleep. I couldn't escape him, the same way he could not escape his nightmares.

The phone on my desk started ringing. I paused in the middle of a sentence, only to continue writing as I reached out and picked it up, bringing the receiver to my ear.

"Officer Bane," I answered briskly.

"Magnus? It's Cat."

My pen halted its path again. I set it down and leaned back in my chair, grateful for the distraction but uneasy about the unbidden call.

"Hey. What's up?" I asked, fighting to keep my voice neutral.

"I thought I should call and let you know that Alec is being discharged tomorrow."

I exhaled and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Christ. I thought I had more time."

"More time for what?"

"We're trying to set up a temporary living arrangement for Alec," I lied quickly. Catarina did not yet know about my plan to invite Alec to stay at my house. Like Luke, she would be reluctant about my offer, but for entirely different reasons.

"I'm glad I decided to call you after all. I wasn't planning on telling you until later, but I decided against it."

"Thank you, Cat. I appreciate it. Will you still be at the hospital later? I plan on stopping by after my shift."

"That's the other reason I called you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.

"Your boss is here."

My eyes automatically shifted over to Hodge's office. The door was shut and there was no light glowing between the blinds.

"He gave me the okay to call you," Cat continued. "He's here to conduct Alec's interview. Magnus, Alec has requested your presence while he's being questioned."

My fingers coiled tighter around the phone. "Alec wants _me_ there? Why?"

"You tell me. Magnus, did you tell Alec not to talk about what happened to him?"

"No, Cat. Jesus."

"Did he tell you things?"

"I haven't been fishing for information, if that's what you're insinuating," I said, exasperated.

"Of course not," Cat replied, sounding relieved. "I guessed Alec wants you there for support, but I had to be sure."

I glanced over at the clock. My shift didn't end for another hour. "Does Hodge want me there now?"

"He wants you to come to the hospital right away. He said he'll conduct the interview and then you're free to go home. I was also told, very gruffly I might add, to inform you that this will not be taken from your pay."

I smiled. Hodge had always shown fairness to his officers, even if it was in a stern manner. "Let them know I'm on my way."

"See you soon, B."

I hung up and dug through my drawer for my keys. Jumping to my feet, I jammed my arms into the sleeves of my jacket and made for the exit.

Luke glanced up as I passed his desk. "Where do you think you're going?"

"The chief has requested my assistance," I answered, walking backwards.

He shook his head. "Anything to kiss a little ass, huh?"

The grin on my face faded once I made it outside. The keys jangled in my shaking hand as I crossed the parking lot. Despite what Luke thought, I was not doing this for Hodge.

* * *

><p>Catarina and Hodge were waiting for me outside Alec's room, speaking to each other in hushed voices. Cat sensed my presence first and looked toward me as I approached. She wore soft blue scrubs that complimented her eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a messy bun and a stethoscope hung around her neck. To keep her professionalism intact, she refrained from touching me, though she did incline her head in greeting.<p>

"Dr. Loss," I said, inclining my head in turn.

"Officer Bane," she said formally.

Hodge cut in, "Thank you for coming, Magnus."

"Anything I can do to help," I responded, trying not to crumble under my chief's intense stare.

"We'll get started right away. Dr. Loss will be inside the room for monitoring purposes. If Alexander responds negatively to any of the questions, she, and _only_ she, will tend to him. Understood?"

I nodded.

"I do not know what Alexander's intentions are in requesting your attendance, but at no point are you to interfere with the interview. We cannot make it seem as though we are manipulating the answers he gives us. You do not have authority to touch the victim while the interview is being conducted, nor are you allowed to speak to him. I will ask the questions, Alexander will give me the answers. These rules apply to the both of you. Is that clear?" Hodge's eyes darted between Cat and I.

"Affirmative," I answered.

"Yes, sir," Cat replied.

With a single nod, Hodge turned and opened the door behind him. We filed inside; Hodge first, then Cat, and finally me. I closed the door and positioned myself behind the chair Hodge had placed at the foot of Alec's bed. Cat stood at my side, arms folded across her chest. Only when Hodge seated himself did I chance a glance at Alec, but the nineteen-year-old was not even looking at me. He was staring into his blanketed lap, his curtain of dark hair shielding his eyes.

Hodge placed a small black object on the table that had been wheeled in front of him. "We're going to begin now, Alexander. Is that all right?"

Alec said nothing, just clasped his hands tightly in his lap.

Hodge pushed a button on the recording device and sat back in his chair. A clipboard I hadn't noticed before now rested in one of his hands. A pen waited in the other, at the ready. I wondered if the recording device was picking up the hammering of my heart.

"Can you please state your name?" Hodge asked, his voice as gentle as he could manage.

Alec hesitated. His face angled upwards enough that I could see hints of blue in his black bangs. His eyes searched for a moment before settling on me. I allowed the corner of my mouth to curve into a reassuring smile.

"Alexander Lightwood," Alec said quietly, his voice shaking as he recited his full first name.

"And how old are you, Alexander?"

Another pause. "Nineteen."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Cat nodding her head approvingly, like a proud teacher watching her students recite their lines for a school play.

"Can you tell me what seven plus eight is?"

Alec stiffened. His eyes darted from me over to Cat and back to me, frantic for help. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from mouthing 'fifteen.' Everyone in the room knew that Alec had no mathematical skills, but Hodge's questions were strategic. The answer, of course, was fifteen, which would lead smoothly to Hodge's next query of what had occurred fifteen years ago.

"I just need a yes or a no, Alexander," Hodge prompted. "Can you tell me what seven plus eight is?"

Alec's pale cheeks flooded with a pink lustre. My heart clenched to see him embarrassed.

"No," he finally whispered.

Hodge nodded. "Seven plus eight is fifteen. That's a significant number, isn't it? Can you tell me what happened fifteen years ago?"

The teenager's body tensed. He pulled his legs slightly closer to his chest, his knees creating small bumps under the blanket. One of them began to rapidly bounce up and down, an action I'd come to recognize as a tic one exhibited out of nervousness or agitation. He murmured something too soft to hear.

"I'm sorry, I need you to speak more clearly," Hodge instructed.

Alec jumped at the firmness of Hodge's tone. He glanced at me again, his blue eyes pleading. When I could not summon a smile, I gave him the smallest of nods.

"They took me," he said, his voice hushed.

"You were abducted fifteen years ago?" Hodge repeated, for the clarity of the recording.

"Yes."

"Do you know who abducted you?"

Alec rested his forehead in his palm. To anyone else he likely appeared as though he was bored, but I recognized the way he was curling in on himself, the way he was hiding his face, the way he used his own hands to try and comfort himself. He was trying to block everyone out, to make everything disappear.

"Let me rephrase the question: Did you ever see the faces of your attackers?"

"No."

"Not once during those fifteen years?"

Alec's voice rose. "No!"

Beside me, Cat's arms dropped to her sides. She watched her patient intently.

"Did they wear masks?"

"Yes."

"Did they ever call each other by name?"

"No."

"Were your attackers male or female?"

Alec's fingers slid into his hair and tightened around the strands, pulling. "Two men."

"Two men?"

"Yeah."

"Alexander, you were held in captivity for fifteen years. What did your captors do to you while you were imprisoned in that house?"

"Bad things," Alec whispered.

"What kinds of bad things?"

Knowing Alec was not watching me, I shook my head. _Jesus, Hodge. _I knew it was imperative to get as much information as possible out of Alec, but scratching at his scars was going to make his wounds worse. I didn't want him to get used to the pain, I wanted him to heal.

Hand still fisted in his hair, Alec looked up at Hodge. I drew in a long breath to see the glimmering pools brimming at the bottoms of his eyes.

"Please. . ." he whispered.

Hodge was relentless. "Jordan Kyle and Simon Lewis both stated that they were sexually assaulted by your attackers. They also stated that you offered yourself to protect them. Is that true?"

With his free hand, Alec picked at a loose thread on the blanket. He drew in shallow, ragged breaths. Even from across the room, I could see the trembling of his limbs.

"Jordan and Simon told us that they witnessed you being forced to perform oral sex on your abductors. Your abductors also forced you to masturbate in front of them, and you were also forced to participate in anal sex. Are these claims true?"

"Stop it," Alec whimpered weakly.

"Please answer the question."

Alec's body began to rock forward and back rhythmically. His other hand found its way into his hair, snow-colored fingers twisting into ink-like tresses. "Please stop."

"Alexander, were you raped by your abductors?"

"Don't call me that!" Alec screamed.

Cat and I both jumped, startled by the outburst. Still rocking himself and clutching at his hair, Alec drew his knees up to his chest and sobbed into them. Between his cries and gasps for air, I could faintly hear Alec begging Hodge to stop. Cat hurried to Alec's side. She reached for his shoulder but Alec flinched away from her. I watched as she drew a capped syringe out of her pocket. She pulled the cap off and pushed the needle into the side of Alec's neck. Alec recoiled instantly, scrabbling on the bed to get away from her. The heart rate monitor still attached to Alec beeped in a mad frenzy, warning alarms blaring. Catarina reached for him, speaking in a soothing voice, but Alec cringed away from her, whimpering 'no' over and over and over.

Hodge, as calm as a meditating Buddhist, rose from his chair and switched off the recording device. Tucking his items under his arm, he dismissed me to go home and walked out of Alec's room without a backward glance.

I rushed over to Alec's bedside to help try and calm him, but the sedative Cat had injected him with was already taking effect. His muscles were beginning to relax and his eyelids were beginning to droop. I gently pushed on Alec's shoulder to recline him against the pillows.

"He'll be all right," Cat said, and I knew she wasn't referring to the effects of the sedative.

I nodded and offered a small smile. Cat's lips curved but the smile did not reach her eyes. She disposed of the syringe and left the room without comment. I stared at the open doorway, wondering if I should go after her. When I looked down, I saw that Alec's eyes were closed, damp trails on his cheeks the only remnants of his pain. His breathing had evened out. With my pulse leaping in my throat, I slid my hand across the mattress and under Alec's downturned palm. His fingers twitched and, ever so slightly, curled around mine.

* * *

><p>The evening prior had been draining, both physically and mentally. I'd stayed with Alec for a while after his episode, watching over him as he slept. I regretted leaving before he woke up, but there were still things I had to get in order before his discharge. I'd left the hospital and gone straight to a small strip mall. There I'd stocked up on groceries such as soup, crackers, and ginger ale. My next stop had been a department store, where I'd picked up an array of clothing. My selection was a bit bland and the sizes were all different, but I knew they'd suffice until I figured out what suited Alec. It had felt awkward in the men's underwear section. I'd debated whether it was appropriate or not to buy Alec something, but in the end I'd thrown a couple pairs of boxers and a package of boxer briefs into the cart. He didn't have to wear them, but I wanted him to at least have a choice.<p>

After shopping, I'd driven straight home to clean my house and wash Alec's clothes. I'd scrubbed the bathroom until all the surfaces shone and squeaked. It had taken me three attempts until I was satisfied with the sheets and blankets on the spare bed. There was not a wrinkle in sight. The cat hadn't been too impressed on being locked out of the room, but he quit his verbal assault when I'd given him an extra helping of dinner. I'd finally gotten to bed just after two in the morning.

Today, thankfully, was my day off. I pulled into a parking space in front of the hospital and pried my fingers from the steering wheel, wincing as the blood rushed back into my fingertips after my death grip. A quick glance in the rear view mirror revealed dark splotches under my yellow-green eyes. I had five hours of tossing and turning to thank for that. I grabbed the duffle bag from the passenger seat and got out of the car. My legs wobbled as I made my way into the hospital. My pulse was fluttering in my throat. I knew it was selfish of me, but I was nervous of Alec declining my offer. No matter how badly I wanted to protect him, it was still his choice.

Catarina was waiting outside Alec's room. I stopped short, surprised to see her. She hadn't returned before I'd left last night, and today was also her day off. So what was she doing here?"

She turned her head and spotted me. "There you are. I was waiting for you."

"What are you doing here?" I asked, not unkindly.

Cat narrowed her eyes. "I work here. Nice duffle bag."

The nape of my neck tingled. The inflection of her voice suggested she'd already guessed my purpose for being here. I was about to get my ass handed to me.

"Cat—"

"Word through the grapevine is that you're taking him home with you."

"I am not taking him home with me. I'm offering him a place to stay. He hasn't said yes yet."

"Why do you feel like it's your responsibility to take care of him, Magnus? No one would think any less of you if you just stepped back and let this play out on its own."

"I would think less of me," I countered.

Cat shook her head. "Having Alec around you all the time is going to affect you. He's going to wear you down. Even if he sees a psychiatrist daily, Alec is going to be a lot to handle."

"So your solution is to wish him luck and send him off by himself to a shelter?"

"Of course not."

"Then what's the problem?"

Cat drew in a deep breath. "Alec is vulnerable right now, and so are you. You just got out of a relationship, and you've made some revelations about yourself. I know you've been really protective toward Alec, and sometimes protectiveness stems from affection."

I bristled. "Why don't you just come right out and say it, _Catarina_?"

Her eyes widened when I bit out her full name, but she continued calmly, "I just don't want you taking advantage of Alec."

I wish she would have slapped me instead. It would have hurt less.

"I think he's had his fill of being taken advantage of," I snapped, trying to shove past her.

"Magnus, wait." She grabbed my arm and handed me a small business card. "Take this. I made some calls and she's agreed to take Alec's case. She's young, but very skilled in her practice. Top of her class."

"Thanks," I muttered, shoving the card into my pocket and continuing on to Alec's room.

Cat did not follow me. I did not like arguing with my best friend. She was the only one who knew about my secret, and I trusted her whole-heartedly with it. But part of me regretted telling her about my preference of men to women. She still treated me like a human being, like nothing had changed, but sometimes she looked at me as though I was fragile. Getting defensive and trying to antagonize her was my way of reminding her of my strength. Bickering always brought us back together.

Alec was sitting upright when I sat in the chair beside him. It brought a smile to my face to see the rose I had given him cradled in his lap. He brushed his finger over the petals and surrounding leaves, a serenity about his face.

"Big day today," I said, setting the duffle bag on the floor.

Alec's hand froze. With a sigh, he cupped the crystalline vase in his hands and set it up on the table sitting on the other side of the bed. Still admiring the gift, he leaned back against the pillows.

I asked gently, "Do you know what's happening today, Alec?"

He nodded without looking at me. "They're sending me away."

"I want to talk to you about that."

Still he did not look at me. I wondered if he was embarrassed about his emotional outburst yesterday, or if he was upset with me for not stepping in to defend him from Hodge's questions. Either way, it was hurting me to see him avoiding my gaze.

"I want to invite you to live with me," I blurted.

Alec tensed. He kept his eyes trained on the rose as he reached up to scratch the bandages around his neck.

"You're more than welcome to stay at my house," I babbled. "It's just me there, and I have an extra room."

Finally he turned to look at me but I felt no victory when his gaze locked with mine. For the very first time, Alexander Lightwood was frightened by me. His blue eyes were wide and his jaw line was hard. Both of his hands were fisted in the blanket so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. My heart felt like it was being crushed.

"W-what about Jace?"

"We're doing all we can to contact him, but Jace can't help you for the moment."

Alec's expression turned desperate. "Can't I go home?"

I caught myself before mentioning Alec's deceased parents. "Jace put your old house up for sale when he left. It doesn't belong to you anymore."

Alec hid his face and twisted the blanket in his hands. I watched him as he tried to formulate a solution with his limited knowledge, his jaw working.

"Alec," I said, "it's entirely your choice. You don't have to stay with me, but if you refuse, your only other choice is to stay in a shelter. You'll be alone there with a bunch of people you don't know. I can't protect you if you stay in a shelter."

Guilt swelled in the pit of my gut. I was giving Alec a choice, but I was pressuring him into making the choice I wanted. I knew how to manipulate him, but I wasn't doing so to take advantage of him. My instincts were demanding me to take care of him. I couldn't bear the thought of him alone and frightened at a shelter. It was better for both our sakes if he chose to stay with me.

"What do you want me to do?"

"What do _I_ want?"

Alec nodded. "What do you want me to do to repay you?"

I shook my head furiously. "Alec, no. You don't owe me anything. Do you understand? I'm inviting you to stay with me as a guest. There's nothing you need to do for me except rest and get better."

Alec searched my face. His eyes betrayed his doubt, as if he suspected I was lying to him.

"I won't hurt you, Alec," I promised. "I just want to take care of you."

Though he still looked reluctant, Alec nodded. I smiled and reached down for the duffle bag. Alec's IV had already been taken out and he'd been detached from the heart rate monitor. All that was left to do was get him changed into some civilized clothes.

I set the bag on the end of the bed. "I picked up some clothes for you. The sizes are all different so you might have to try a few things on to see what fits. I'll wait outside for you. When you're done I'll take you home."

I shut the blinds on the window and stepped outside of the room. While I waited, I approached the front desk and asked for Alec's discharge papers. The nurse handed me a clipboard and I took my time filling out the information. She smiled when I handed it back to her and indicated where I could find a wheelchair. I followed her instructions and carried the folded chair back to the room. Alec still had not emerged, so I busied myself with unfolding the chair and putting the footrests down.

After thirty minutes, I lightly rapped on Alec's door. There was no reply so I pushed the door open a crack. Alec was sitting on the end of the bed with his back to me. As far as I could see, he was fully clothed in a t-shirt and sweats.

"Alec?"

I stepped farther into the room. He was staring at the floor, his hands curled around his two most precious gifts: my rose and the paper Simon and Jordan had given him. His feet dangled off the floor, flip flops threatening to slide off his feet. Though it was not terribly cold outside, I regretted not finding him some warmer footwear. I walked around to crouch down in front of him and looked up into his eyes.

"I'm scared, Magnus," he whispered.

"I know," I said, restraining myself from touching him. Now was not the time. "But everything will be all right. I promised to take care of you, and I intend to keep that promise. Do you trust me?"

He hesitated for a moment before nodding. I smiled and straightened, reaching for the duffle bag on the bed. It took a minute of rifling through the contents before I found what I was looking for. I politely asked Alec to look at me and when he lifted his face, I set the ball cap on his head and adjusted it so it rested comfortably. My hands automatically reached to push Alec's hair out of his eyes. He flinched only slightly when I touched him, but I pulled my hand hastily away. Next I handed him one of my old zip-up hoodies. Alec set down his gifts and stood up. I knew he was wearing the smallest shirt from the bag, but it still hung loosely from his body. My hoodie swallowed him up, too. I only hoped that any media personnel lurking around the hospital grounds wouldn't look at Alec twice.

"All right," I said, trying my best to sound cheerful. "Ready to go?"

Alec reached for his gifts, but his hand froze in midair. "Can I— Am I allowed to take these with me?"

"Of course you can. They're yours."

Alec grabbed his only belongings and seated himself in the wheelchair as I instructed. I slung the duffle bag over my shoulder and pushed him out of the room. Alec shifted nervously in front of me. As far as I knew, he hadn't once left his room. This was his first time going through the hospital, and there was no doubt that the bustling of nurses and visitors was making him uncomfortable. Neither of us spoke as I wheeled him to the elevators, though I knew I should say something comforting. Nothing came to mind. The elevator doors slid open, and, luckily, we had it all to ourselves. As we descended to the ground floor, Alec jumped at the stomach-dropping sensation. I smiled to myself when he chuckled quietly.

The atrium was busy so we took our time maneuvering through the throngs of people. Just before we passed through the main entrance, Alec asked me to stop. I did so and hastily had to apply the brakes as Alec rose from the wheelchair. As an officer of the law, I understood the need to follow rules, but I was not about to inform Alec of the hospital's policy on wheeling patients out to their vehicles. He wanted to leave on his own two feet. This was his rebellion. This was his survival.

Leaving the wheelchair behind, I walked at Alec's side as he started cautiously for the exit. The automatic doors slid open as we approached. Alec gasped and latched on to my hand, squeezing my fingers tightly. I jolted but managed to restrain myself from jerking my hand away. In some ways, Alec's mental capacity was that of a child, which meant he was likely to respond to situations in the same manner. I had to be patient and coax him through those situations without caring how I looked or what other people thought of us.

I assured him that it was all right and gently tugged him through the open doorway. Alec's side pressed into mine as he followed, his fingers still gripping mine. He jumped as the second set of doors slid open but continued without stopping. I guided him across the hospital grounds to my car. Alec's head whipped around all the while, taking in the surrounding trees, buildings, and the open sky. When we reached my car, I helped Alec get settled into the passenger seat before tossing the duffle into the back and walking around to get in the driver's side. Alec watched in fascination as I started the engine and shifted into reverse.

I drove slowly on the way home, much to the agitation of the drivers behind me. Alec's face was all but glued to the window. Only when we were at a stoplight did his gaze fall to his feet as he avoided the eyes of the drivers beside us.

We finally pulled into my driveway and I killed the engine. Alec remained in his seat as I got out, yanking the duffle out of the backseat. I opened his door and reminded him how to unlatch his seatbelt. On shaky legs he slid out of the car and followed me up to the front door. My keys banged against the door as I unlocked it. The door swung open and I stood aside, inviting Alec in first. He passed by me on unsteady legs, but he did not get far before being ambushed by my cat.

"Sorry," I apologized as the ball of fur wound himself between Alec's legs. "It's just my cat. He's friendly but he'll trip you if you're not careful."

Alec stiffened as first but relaxed when the feline rubbed up against his shins, purring. Holding his gifts in one hand, he tentatively extended his hand downward. The cat craned his neck so Alec could scratch the top of his head.

"What's his name?"

"He doesn't have a name," I admitted, shutting the front door.

"Why not?"

"My girlfriend bought him shortly before she and I. . . broke up. She left him here and I just never got around to naming him."

"Oh," Alec said sadly.

I could hear the disappointment in his voice so I switched topics. "I'll show you to your room."

Alec followed me around the corner and down the hall. The cat pranced happily behind him, pleased by the attention Alec had given him. I pushed open the door to the spare room and stepped aside. Alec entered and looked at the double bed and the small dresser. There was a lamp and a couple books stacked on the small bedside table. Alec picked up one of the paperbacks and turned it this way and that, studying it curiously. I hadn't given any thought to storing them somewhere else. They made the room feel a little more. . . lived in.

The cat hopped up on the bed and began making a nest. I could have sworn he flashed me an evil smirk as he mussed the unwrinkled blankets. Ignoring the cat's smug satisfaction, I watched Alec set his flower and paper on the table, adjusting them to his liking.

"Would you like to have a shower?" I asked.

Alec's shoulders went visibly tight.

"It might feel better to get all the hospital gunk off," I added hastily.

He nodded and followed me to the bathroom. I handed him a fresh towel and showed him how to work the shower nozzle. New bottles of shampoo and body wash lined the edge of the tub. I'd been careful to buy different colored bottles, since he was unable to read. When he was clear on which was which, I made for the door.

"Just give me a shout if you need anything, okay?"

Without replying, Alec unzipped his hoodie and let it slide from his shoulders. He then grasped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it up and over his head, displaying his naked torso. I was glad his eyes were averted so they couldn't see me scanning his flat stomach, his too-narrow hips, and his faintly-protruding ribs. When his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his sweats to push them down, I hastily turned.

"I'll be right outside," I called over my shoulder, closing the door behind me.

I felt his surprised gaze on me until the door separated us. Had he thought I was going to watch him strip down and shower? Was that what had been expected of him? I waited until I heard the shower running before making my way back to Alec's room. The dresser drawers had been emptied long ago, so I refolded the clothes from the duffle bag and put them away neatly. The cat threw an endless string of meows at me until I gave in and fed him. When there was nothing left to do, I sat down in the living room and turned on the TV, keeping the volume low in case Alec called for me.

After forty-five minutes I switched the TV off and made for the bathroom. The water was still running, but I knew from experience that the hot water did not last that long. I knocked quietly on the door, just loud enough for Alec to hear me over the shower. When there was no response, I opened and door and peeked inside. A thin haze of steam caressed my face. When it cleared I saw Alec sitting on the floor, his legs drawn up to his chest and his face pressed into his knees. He was clothed again but his damp hair clung to his face and neck. Without saying anything, I sat down beside him on the floor, pulled him into my arms, and held him while he cried.


	5. Nothing to Forgive

**All right. So. Problem with this story: I can't seem to contain myself and I end up writing super long chapters. This one was also 14 pages on Word. My sincerest apologies. I hope this chapter doesn't seem too slow. Hopefully the pace will be a bit quicker in my next post (not sure if that will be two weeks from now or not). Now, I know a lot of people are freaking out over my mentioning of a death scene. Let's just all take a deep breath...That won't be for a while yet, so let's just live in the moment, shall we? :) I shan't have my readers passing out from anxiety. I also had someone ask me if 1) Magnus is a pedophile and 2) if Magnus and Alec will be having a physical relationship. No, Magnus is not an evil perv in this fic; however, he and Alec will be having a (consensual) physical relationship later on. I will try to remember to post warnings for those who do not wish to read it. Before I take up too much of your time, I'd like to present the next chapter of Sacrifice. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you, everyone, for your reviews and follows! I'd be nothing without you! More reviews would be dandy! Cheers!**

* * *

><p>Alec emerged from his bedroom, wringing the hem of his t-shirt in his hands. I hastily shoved my phone into my pocket and rose from the couch. His eyes looked at me sheepishly from under his bangs before darting to the floor. He had removed the dripping bandages from around his neck, revealing the necklace of angry red bumps marring his skin.<p>

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

I knew he was apologizing for crying. He'd sobbed in my arms for so long that I'd had to change my shirt when he'd finally calmed down. The soft cotton had been drenched in tears. "You don't have to apologize, Alec. It's okay."

He did not look at me again. The corners of his mouth were tight, almost as if he were grimacing or flinching. His body was tense, his shoulders hunched slightly. I'd seen this kind of stance before, in people who were expecting to be hit. Alec thought I was going to strike him. I assumed his abductors had not taken too kindly to Alec's tears in the past.

An awkward silence hung between us. After a moment, I invited him to sit down. Alec timidly joined me in the living room, giving me a wide berth as he passed. He picked a spot on the sofa across the room from me. The moment he sat down, the cat rushed across the floor and threw himself into Alec's lap. Alec jumped, digging his hands into the sofa's cushion. When the cat completed his customary circles and lay down in a ball, Alec relaxed and uncurled his fingers. He watched the animal in fascination, the corner of his lips tugging into a small smile.

At ease, I sat back down and reached for the remote beside me. "Would you like to watch TV?"

Alec tore his eyes from the cat and looked at me quizzically. "What's TV?"

Instead of trying to explain it to him, I switched on the screen and searched through the guide for something appropriate. News broadcasting channels were automatically ruled out, followed by crime dramas. I didn't think Alec would understand any soap operas or comedies, so I settled for a cartoon on the children's network.

Bright colors filled the screen as small animated characters sang and danced in the foreground. Alec's eyes widened, awed and bewildered. He leaned forward in his seat slightly as he gaped at this new discovery. I tried to hide my smile as I watched him. Looking at him now, I saw an average teenager. Small, but normal. There was not a trace of fear on him, nor was there any evidence of him having endured fifteen years of cruelty and terror. He did not look vulnerable; he looked. . . beautiful.

We sat quietly for a few hours, watching an endless stream of cartoons. Alec was completely captivated, no less engrossed than he had been after his first five seconds of experiencing television. I'd never been a fan of cartoons; the cheeriness and exaggerated attempts at humor annoyed me. But for Alec's sake I pretended to be interested. I relaxed into the couch and smiled at scenes that were supposed to be funny. It did not take long before I no longer had to pretend. For the first time in a long time, I was not alone in my house. There was a sense of normality to my life, just sitting around and watching TV with a friend. For the first time in a long time, I felt content.

It was during one of the commercial breaks that I noticed Alec move through the corner of my eye. I glanced over and saw him reclining into the sofa, his eyes narrowed in pain. His fingers were knotted in his shirt again. Sensing Alec's discomfort, the cat roused from his nap and twisted his head to look up at Alec from over his shoulder. When I asked if he was all right, Alec nodded without comment and went back to watching TV. I continued watching him. Whatever he was experiencing vanished and returned intermittently. One minute he would be fine and the next he would be hunched over, what little color there was left in his face draining away. I asked him again if he was feeling okay and got the same response. Just as I readied myself to get off the couch, I heard it: a low but distinguished rumbling. Alec grimaced and the cat meowed in protest as the legs under him shifted.

"Do you need something to eat?" I asked.

Alec hesitated only a moment before nodding frantically. Cursing inwardly, I hurried into the kitchen and pulled a new box of crackers from the cupboard. After filling a glass with water, I grabbed a handful of crackers and rushed back into the living room. The cat had abandoned Alec's lap but had not wandered far. Alec was curled in on himself, clutching at his stomach. I urged him to sit up and pressed the water and crackers into his hands. He took a sip from the glass and began nibbling at the edge of a cracker. I did not have to remind him to eat slowly for his starved stomach.

"I'm sorry," I said gently. "I lost track of time. I should have made lunch for you a while ago."

"It's okay," Alec whispered, taking another small bite.

I crouched down in front of him so he would look at me. "Alec, you have to tell me when you're hungry. Remember what I told you? You don't need permission to eat anymore."

His eyes glimmered. I could see doubt swimming in the blue depths. My words of comfort had not yet liberated him. Fifteen years of unspeakable punishments rendered him unable to trust me, and though I certainly didn't blame him for that, it still tore at me to be thought of as a possible threat. I'd saved him from the house, but I had not saved him from the torture.

When Alec did not respond, I asked, "Do you want me to make you some soup?"

He shook his head. "I don't feel good."

I resisted the urge to touch the back of my hand to his forehead. "The crackers and water will help."

True to my word, a touch of color returned to Alec's cheeks as he continued to eat. The color of his eyes brightened and he was able to sit up straighter. When he was finished, the cat jumped up into his lap and made himself cozy. Alec tentatively stroked the feline's head as he returned his attention back to the cartoon on the TV. I traded my place on the couch for the spot on the floor right in front of him. Either he was too absorbed in the cartoon to notice or he was comfortable with my close proximity. I chose to believe the latter.

* * *

><p>The remainder of the evening consisted of more cartoons and a dinner of soup and crackers. Alec finished only half his bowl, but I did not press him to try and eat more. The last thing I wanted was to accidentally make him vomit. I made a mental note to ask Cat how much Alec should be eating on a regular basis, and how I was to go about gradually increasing his food intake.<p>

The sky outside darkened in a blur and I found myself fighting to keep my eyes open. When I checked the time, I was shocked to find it was nearly midnight. Since I had another day off, I did not need to get up early to go to work, but I had been running short on sleep lately and there were still things I had to do tomorrow, calls I needed to make.

It stumped me to think of what I was supposed to say to Alec. Was I supposed to ask him if he was ready for bed? That would give him the option of saying no, which I wanted to avoid since there was no way in hell I was going to be able to keep my eyes open for much longer. I couldn't just tell him that it was time to turn in. Such commanding authority could frighten him, especially if he jumped to the conclusion that we were going to share a bed.

The TV screen went dark as I pushed the power button on the remote. Alec stared for a moment, confused, before lowering his tired eyes to me.

"We should get some sleep," I murmured.

Just as I suspected, Alec's response was panic. His body went rigid and his eyes widened, the pupils dilating enough to nearly drown the blue irises in black. His lips worked as he tried to concoct an excuse, but he did not speak, did not dare to argue with me. I hated that I had unintentionally caused him such anxiety, but I did not know how to assuage his apprehension without making it worse. I settled for offering a consoling smile and keeping an adequate distance from him.

Alec followed me to his bedroom silently. I checked the doors and flicked off lights along the way. Inside his room, I turned on the bedside lamp and pulled back the blankets on the bed. Alec waited for permission before climbing under the covers. His expression was befuddled, almost flustered, as he shifted around in search of a comfortable position. I moved for the doorway but stopped before leaving the room.

"I'm just going to have a shower and then I'll be going to bed. My room is just down the hall if you need anything. Feel free to sleep with the lamp on."

Alec nodded and turned onto his side so his back was facing me. I watched his small frame curl into a ball under the blankets. I murmured a soft 'goodnight' before making my way to the bathroom. I kept the door open a crack in case Alec called for me while I was in the shower, but the house was quiet aside from the spray of water. When I finished towelling off and changing into fresh clothes, I started for my bedroom. But before I climbed into bed, I decided to quickly check up on Alec. I padded down the hallway and peeked into his bedroom.

The bed was empty.

Panic flared in my chest. Had he fled the house while I was in the shower? As I turned to race farther down the hall, I caught a soft noise from inside Alec's bedroom. It was a sniffle. Muffled, like someone choking back tears. I stepped inside and walked around the side of the bed. Slowly, I lowered myself onto all fours and looked underneath. There, huddled in the tight confines under the bed, was Alec. Even in the dim light, I could see his tear-streaked cheeks and the trembling of his body. His eyes met mine and I heard the soft patters of fresh tears against the floor.

His words from the hospital resonated inside my head: _"I'm scared, Magnus."_ Followed by my reply: _"I know."_

Alec suddenly unfolded one of his arms and reached out to me, his palm upturned. It was impossible for me to squeeze in the space under the bed, so I positioned myself on my stomach with my cheek resting on my arm and reached my left hand for his. His fingers were cold against mine. Alec squeezed my hand, still crying quietly.

I stayed like that for the rest of the night, not daring to fall asleep until Alec did first.

* * *

><p>Rolling my shoulders, I titled my head to both sides to work the cricks out of my neck. Sleeping on the floor all night had not come and gone without some painful reminders. The dull ache in the rest of my body did not make me bitter for my sacrifice, but I did miss the softness of my pillows and mattress. The floor had been unforgiving, and getting to my feet this morning had resulted in numerous pops and cracks of my bones and joints.<p>

Alec squirmed in the passenger seat beside me, twiddling his fingers in his lap. He'd been quiet all morning, only nodding or shaking his head when I asked him questions. Sleeping on the hard floor hadn't seemed to have any effect on him, but he'd had plenty of practice sleeping in a locker over a span of years. Now, he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" I asked, rubbing my eye with the heel of my hand.

Alec remained silent. In truth, we both knew what he was referring to. Despite what I'd told him the day before, he was apologizing again for crying. And he was apologizing for sleeping on the floor inside of in the bed I had provided for him. I wanted to ask why he'd chosen the floor, but I'd come up with three logical conclusions on my own: One being that the bed was too comfy, something he was not used to. Another thought was that being on the mattress surrounded him in open space. Again, tight confines were what he was used to. My final guess was that Alec knew I could not fit under the bed. Perhaps that limitation had made him feel safe, protected from me. Of course, if that had been the case, I couldn't help but wonder why he'd held my hand the entire night.

I yawned. "Don't worry about it, Alec. There's nothing to forgive. Really."

Alec glanced out his window. "Where are we going?"

"To a friend's," I answered simply.

He did not pry, which I appreciated. Instead he just looked out the window as we drove into a friendly neighborhood with small houses and massive oak trees lining both sides of the street. Most of the leaves had already dropped to the ground, but no beauty had been lost in the orange, yellow, and brown speckling the road. I turned left off the street and into the driveway of a white house with a red door. I turned off the engine and inhaled deeply, preparing myself.

"Just stay behind me and don't say anything, okay?" I instructed gently.

Alec nodded and undid his seatbelt. He waited for me on his side of the car before we followed the tidy path up to the front door. The playful shrieks of children could be heard in the distance. Alec looked around for the sources of the noise as he waited on the bottom step. Swallowing my pride, I rang the doorbell and descended the first step, positioning myself directly in front of Alec's small frame.

Rustling could be heard from inside the house before the red door swung open. A blonde woman with green eyes stood in the doorway. She was clad in a white lace shirt and dark skinny jeans that hugged her curves. Red stiletto heels covered her feet even though she was inside. Her blonde hair was neatly curled and hung over her shoulders, resting above the swell of her breasts. The broad smile she wore disappeared the instant her eyes fell on my face.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she spat.

"Hello, Camille," I said politely.

Camille pointed a red manicured finger at me. "I have nothing to say to you."

"I know you're pissed at me, but I'm here to ask for a favor."

"You can take your favor and shove it up Ragnor Fell's ass. That's what you like doing with your dick, isn't it?"

I flushed. Ragnor Fell had been the man I'd left Camille for. He was the first man I'd ever been with, and the experience had not been a pleasant one. "You might want to speak up. I don't quite think all your neighbors heard you."

"Get off my property, douche bag." Camille moved to slam the door.

I lurched forward, holding my arms out in front of me. "Wait, wait, wait!"

Camille paused, half of her body concealed by the door. She raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow and pursed her lips in annoyance.

"Have you heard about the three boys that were rescued recently?" I questioned.

"The Alexander Lightwood case? Yeah." She narrowed her dark-lashed eyes. "What do you want? A congratulations?"

"You're one of the best tutors in the city. You've helped kids of all ages excel in their studies."

"Where are you going with this, Magnus?"

I exhaled and stepped aside, revealing Alec. Camille's eyes widened and her fingers moved to cover her agape mouth. Alec rubbed his arm under her gaze, only making eye contact with her briefly.

"Are you willing to take another student?"

Camille opened the door fully and pressed her hand to her chest. "How am I supposed to help him?"

"Just teach him the basics for now. Reading, writing, math."

"I don't think—"

"I'll pay you," I cut in. "Generously."

Greed flashed in her money-colored eyes, if only for a moment. She recovered quickly and folded her arms across her chest, pushing her hip out. I knew she would have a sense of satisfaction from me paying her. In her mind, I was admitting that I was in the wrong about our breakup and now I was reimbursing her for it. This was me grovelling at her high-heeled feet.

With an exaggerated sigh, Camille spun on her heel and strode into her house, waving for us to follow. I let Alec walk ahead of me, trying not to be ashamed that I was using him as a buffer. We followed Camille through the entryway to the living room. I fought to not wrinkle my nose at the leather furniture, gleaming hardwood floors, massive flat screen TV, and expensive fireplace. Camille's expensive tastes had not changed. She seated herself in a leather recliner and crossed one leg over the other.

"How many sessions per week? And when would you like to start?" she queried curtly.

"As many as you see fit, and you can start today if you have time."

Her lips tightened in aggravation. She glared at me for a moment before flashing a warm smile at Alec. She patted the open seat next to her. "Please sit down, sweetheart."

Alec did not move until I persisted. His steps were slow and cautious as he moved to sit down. Once seated, he let his hair fall over his eyes.

"Alexander—"

"Alec," I interrupted.

Camille glowered at me.

I finished firmly, "He goes by Alec."

"Alec, do you know the letters of the alphabet?"

Alec shook his head.

"Can you count to ten?"

Another head shake.

"If I gave you a piece of paper and a pencil, would you be able to write your name for me?"

Alec shook his head for the third time. Camille clutched her knee, frustration evident in her tight grip. She rose from the recliner and marched up to me, her heels clacking on the floor. I'd always hated the sound. Women in heels intimidated me. If Hodge ever wore a pair of heels, I doubted I'd be able to control my bladder.

"You're giving me nothing to work with," she hissed into my ear. "The kids I've tutored have had basic skills at the very least."

"You haven't refused my offer," I whispered back.

Her jaw clenched. "We'll discuss my price later. Now would be a good time to say goodbye to your bank account, Magnus."

For the next hour, I sat quietly as Camille recited the first four letters of the alphabet over and again with Alec. She discussed the sounds of the letters and showed him what they looked like on paper. Even after sixty minutes of sitting next to her, Alec had not warmed up to Camille. She had been nothing but patient and gentle with him. She was a completely different woman with him than she was with me. I hadn't known she was capable to such kindness. But Alec was not at ease next to her. He was tense and did not speak when she encouraged him to say the letters with her. Maybe he was shy of her, or maybe the learning process was daunting. I hoped it would get better over time.

When Camille showed no signs of stopping quite yet, I reached into my pocket for my phone. As I pulled it out, something fluttered to the floor. I bent over and picked it up, turning it over. The jeans I wore were the same pair from yesterday, and I had forgotten all about the card Cat had given me. The name of the psychiatrist and her office's number were neatly printed on the front. I figured now would be a good time to schedule Alec to see her.

As I got up from my seat, Alec's head snapped up and followed my movements. I made for the entryway, already dialing the number. I'd make the call outside where my voice wouldn't be a distraction.

"Magnus—" Alec began.

"Stay here," I said without looking back.

A breeze had picked up outside, tossing up the leaves in a twirling dance and carrying the comforting scent of the damp outdoors. Closing the door behind me, I seated myself on the front steps and stared at the name on the card. I couldn't be sure, but I thought—

A cheerful voice interrupted my thoughts. "Dr. Fray's office. How may I help you?"

"Uh, hi," I stammered. "My name is Magnus Bane."

"What can I do for you, Mr. Bane?"

"I'm not sure if she spoke to you directly, but my friend Catarina Loss called your office the other day."

"Ah yes. Dr. Loss mentioned you would be phoning. Is this in regards to Alexander Lightwood?"

"Yes. Um, he goes by Alec," I clarified, remembering his outburst during his interview. "Alexander is kind of a trigger for his anxiety."

"I'll mention that to Dr. Fray. Now that you've called, I'd like to inform you that she has tentatively booked Alec for an appointment tomorrow morning at eight. Will that work for you?"

My shift did not start until nine tomorrow, but I had no idea how long each session lasted. "Do you know how long the appointment will be?"

"Typical appointments are an hour," the receptionist explained politely. "They can be booked for two hours, but considering it will be the initial meeting with the client, I think it will be under an hour."

"That's perfect."

"All right. I'll go ahead and book him in."

Over the faint clacking of nails on a keyboard, I heard the door behind me swing open. Camille called my name. I looked over my shoulder and nearly dropped my phone. Her eyes were wild and her skin was pale. There was no mistake that her adrenaline had stemmed from fear. I thanked the receptionist and hung up without waiting for a reply. Jumping up from the stairs, I followed Camille as she rushed inside.

Alec was on the floor in the living room. He rocked back and forth against the recliner, his arms wrapped around his torso and his knees drawn up to his chest. The gasping breaths he drew in were strangled and inhuman.

"He said he couldn't breathe," Camille said in a rush.

I raced forward and dropped to my knees in front of Alec. His eyes were on my face, but the light behind them was distant. His hyperventilating intensified. If I couldn't calm him down, he was going to pass out.

Against my better judgement, I grabbed Alec's shoulders and shook him slightly. "Alec, it's okay. I'm right here. I need you to take a deep breath for me."

His breathing pattern did not change. My hands moved from Alec's shoulders to his face. "Alec, look at me."

His eyes had never left mine, but now I felt him _see_ me.

"You have to calm down, okay? Take a deep breath through your nose."

He tried and only sucked in anther ragged gasp of air.

"Like this." I inhaled deeply through my nose and let it out, repeating the process over and over until Alec finally managed to copy me. "Good. One more time. . . And again. You're okay, Alec."

After a few more breaths, Alec's breathing finally became controlled. He'd stopped rocking back and forth, but his arms, still wrapped around his torso, were quavering. My hands were still cupping Alec's cheeks.

"You left me," he whispered.

"What?"

"I thought you were leaving me here."

_Jesus Christ._ He'd thought I was leaving him with Camille. Of all people, Alec had the strongest misconception on what prices and payments meant. It had not been clear to him that I was not giving him to her. He'd called out for me when I'd left and I'd told him to stay put without looking back. I knew now how that must have looked in his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I said, pulling him into my shoulder.

As I held Alec, I glanced over and found Camille watching us. Her usual arms-crossed-hip-out stance lacked its signature sassiness. She did not say anything, just inclined her head and turned away, disappearing down the hallway. Her actions were clear enough without words: _Class dismissed._

* * *

><p>A quick trip to the hospital had confirmed the symptoms of a panic attack. Cat performed a thorough check up to make sure Alec was fine before sending us home. I'd been grateful that my best friend was there to help me. She'd explained the early warning signs of the attacks and had even complimented me on handling the first episode. She'd been thrilled that I was taking Alec to meet Dr. Fray in the morning, and had gone out of her way to prescribe Alec some sleeping pills when I'd told her about his first night at my place. We'd left shortly after that, but not before Cat had pulled me into the tightest, most meaningful hug. With Alec's help, I'd then picked out a bouquet of flowers for her and had them delivered as a heartfelt thank you.<p>

That night had played out in a familiar roll of events. Alec and I watched cartoons and ate soup and crackers for dinner. When we'd gone to sleep that night, I'd been smart enough to haul extra blankets and pillows into the bedroom. Alec slept under the bed and I slept on the floor, and neither of us had any complaints.

Today marked the first meeting with Alec's psychiatrist, a fundamental foothold in his recovery. I planned to stay with Alec through the entire appointment, but I did not know if Dr. Fray would allow me to sit in during their meeting, what with patient confidentiality and all.

Both of us were quiet as I drove to the office building. Alec was glued to my side after I'd parked the car and began guiding him inside. We walked through the lobby and took the elevator up to the fifth floor. Alec got a kick out of the weightless sensation, which brought a smile to my face. Once inside the right office, we approached the front desk. I recognized the receptionist's voice from the call I'd made yesterday. If she was upset over my abrupt hang up, she did not show it. We hadn't been sitting for three minutes before a young woman stepped into the waiting room and called Alec's name. My jaw fell open the instant I saw her. Her red hair and green eyes were unmistakeable. She was the girl in the photos on Luke's desk, a spitting image of her mother. This was Jocelyn Fray's daughter, and Jocelyn Fray was Luke's girlfriend. Heat flooded my cheeks when I thought back to teasing Luke about growing facial hair to please his future stepdaughter. It seemed almost unfathomable that this esteemed psychiatrist was my age.

Clary led us into her office, which was comfortably lit with soft lights. Beige walls gave off a bit of warmth to the room. A bookcase jammed from top to bottom with books rested against the far wall. On the opposite side sat a large oak desk. I noticed a laptop, an appointment book, and several framed photos spread out over the surface. I wondered if Luke was in any of them. In the middle of the room were three chairs, one facing the other two. Clary indicated for us to seat ourselves in the two sitting side by side before seating herself.

"Alec, I'm Dr. Fray. It's a pleasure to meet you." She extended her hand, waiting patiently until Alec unfroze and shook it. She then turned to me. "You must be Officer Bane."

"Magnus," I said, taking her small hand in mine.

"Dr. Loss spoke very highly of you on the phone."

"She's told me great things about you as well."

Clary smiled and turned to Alec. "I know this may be frightening for you, but I would like to assure you that this is a safe place. I ensure complete confidentiality with all my clients, which means nothing you say will leave this room. Now, I'd like to see you five times a week, one hour per appointment. We can extend that if you feel the need, but for now it's a good start. You can speak to me as much or as little as you like. I'm not here to judge you, I'm not here to diagnose you. I'm here to listen and to help you. Do you understand?"

Alec nodded. Clary smiled and leaned back in her chair. The lights in the room emphasized the freckles on her nose. She pulled a notebook and pen from their place tucked in the cushion and opened to a random page, her pen poised to write. Alec said nothing but I could see Dr. Fray scrawling something on the page. Was she assessing his appearance? Was she making an inference of the two of us walking in together? Was she doodling? I cleared my throat awkwardly.

Clary glanced at me over her notebook and smiled at Alec. "Remember, you can say as much or as little as you like. There are no judgements here."

So we sat in silence for the next forty minutes, with nothing to break the quiet other than the ticking of a wall clock and the scratching of pen on paper. Alec stared into his lap the entire time, hardly moving. I shifted in my chair from time to time, trying not to draw attention to myself. That earned me several chastising glances from a psychiatrist half my size. Finally, Clary closed her notebook and tucked it away.

"I think that will be all for this session. Alec, you've done very well for your first time. I'm going to borrow Magnus for a moment, if that's all right. We won't be long."

Alec looked about to protest, but, as usual, said nothing. My fingers brushed over his shoulder as I followed Clary out of the room. She closed the door firmly and looked up at me with warm green eyes.

"Is that normal?" I asked. "For a client to not say anything the entire time?"

She shrugged. "It happens."

"I don't see the point in him coming if he's never going to say anything."

"I need Alec to trust me. If sitting in silence is what it takes to get him to open up, we'll just have to be patient. Trust doesn't happen just because you book an appointment for it."

I nodded. "Thank you for letting me sit in today. He tends to get nervous when I'm not around."

"That's a habit I'm afraid we'll have to break," Clary stated simply. "He's showing a certain dependency on you, and I will never have Alec's full trust if he needs you at his side giving him permission to speak."

I staggered at her words. "It's not like that."

"I do not mean to offend you," Clary rectified. "Just let me be clear in saying Alec will have to learn to be strong without you. I allowed you to join the session today to put Alec at ease. From now on, I ask that you remain in the waiting room during our sessions."

_Good luck with that. _"Of course."

"You're free to go. I'll have Alec scheduled in for the rest of the week. Does the same time work for you?"

"Sure."

Clary shook my hand once again before stepping back into her office. She spoke softly to Alec before sending him out. I uttered a thank you to the receptionist as we passed, which she returned with a friendly goodbye. I escorted Alec back to the car and drove to the station. More silence hovered between us.

As we waited at a red light, I said, "I hope you don't mind hanging out at the station today."

Alec looked over at me. "Will you be there?"

"Of course."

He nodded. "Then it's okay."

I found myself growing steadily more nervous as I pulled into the station's parking lot. Hodge and I were about to have a discussion, and I wasn't sure how he was going to react. I hadn't expected taking care of Alec to be so. . . restricting. My original plan had been to have him spend the day with Camille while I worked. She would incorporate his therapy sessions into their lesson plans. But Alec's separation anxiety had been an unexpected surprise. I couldn't leave him with Camille and I couldn't leave him at home. Bringing him to the station limited me to paperwork, since there was no way Luke and I could bring Alec in the car on patrol. Just the thought of eight hours of reports made my head hurt.

Alec followed me into the station and down the aisle to a room at the back. I could feel the curious stares of my fellow officers on us but no one voiced any comments. The room at the back was mainly for storage, and I hoped what I needed was still in there. Flicking on the light, it only took a few minutes before I spotted a small box. I pulled it from its spot on the shelf and headed back to my desk, Alec in tow. He sat in my chair and watched as I set some children's books in front of him, along with some crayons and blank pieces of paper. There were toys in the box, used to for young witnesses and victims brought into the station, but I left them there to avoid insulting Alec. I wasn't even sure he'd know what to do with them.

"What are these?" Alec asked, keeping his hands clasped in his lap.

"These books have some pretty neat pictures. Maybe you can look through them and find some of the letters Camille showed you yesterday." I slid the paper and crayons closer to him. "Or you can draw something." I quickly demonstrated by pulling a blue crayon from the box and sketching a happy face in the corner of the paper.

Alec stared at the paper, intrigued even though it was far from a masterpiece.

"Listen, I have to talk to my boss for a minute. I'll be in that office right over there." I pointed to the door. "You'll be able to see me the entire time. Just promise not to go anywhere, okay?"

Alec glanced at the office, then at me, and slowly nodded. I felt his eyes on me as I made my way over to Hodge's office. A gruff voice invited me in after I knocked. The chief looked up at me as I slid inside and shut the door behind me. He clicked his laptop mouse a couple times before reclining in his chair.

"What can I do for you, Magnus?"

I clasped my hands behind me so he wouldn't see their fidgeting. "I hate to ask this, sir, but is it all right if Alec spends the day here?"

Hodge leaned forward and gazed out the office window. I followed his glance and was surprised to see that Alec was not watching us. The nineteen-year-old was bent over my desk, trying to figure out how to hold a crayon.

"This isn't a daycare facility," Hodge reprimanded, albeit gently.

"I'm aware of that. It's just temporary. There were complications with my original plans."

His eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by temporary?"

I cleared my throat. "I'm afraid I don't have an answer to that. Alec will have to stay with me until I can find someone's he comfortable with to watch him, or until he's comfortable enough to be at home by himself."

"That could be anywhere between the next two weeks and the next two years."

"If it makes it any easier, I'm willing to take reduced shifts so Alec isn't here for long periods of time."

"You want me to cut your hours back considerably?"

"Alec will stay out of the way. I'll make sure of it. He won't bother—"

Hodge held up his hand, cutting me off. He watched me for a long while, his gray eyes hard. "Since you have no social life, you racked up a lot of holiday time that has yet to be used. Following your shift today, I'm marking you down for a temporary leave. Take as long as you need, but you'll only be paid until your holidays run out."

"I— A-are you sure?" I stuttered.

"I could just fire you, if that's what you prefer."

"No, no," I said hastily. "A holiday sounds good."

"Good." Hodge returned to typing on his laptop. "Now get back to work. And feel free to take home some of that paperwork. I hate having to look at it."

"Thank you, Hodge."

His only reply was a small huff. I left his office and made my way back to my desk, trying to conceal my smile. Alec had finally figured out the art of holding a crayon and was busying coloring. He glanced up as I approached and hastily flipped the paper over to hide his work.

"Hey," I greeted him. "What have you got there?"

"Nothing." Alec began gathering the crayons spread out on the desk.

"Did you draw something?"

He shrugged.

I extended my hand. "May I see it?"

Alec was still for a minute before giving another shrug. That simple movement left me feeling unnerved. He was not refusing, but at the same time he was not giving me permission. Different guesses of his artwork flashed inside my head: A collage of smiley faces replicating mine, all drawn in different colors; a child-like depiction of the cat; stick figures with Xs for eyes and covered in blood; the masked faces of his attackers; men or boys with exposed genitalia.

Nervous to look but too concerned to not take a peek, I reached out and gently took the paper in my hand. I flipped it over and felt a numbness spread from my chest all the way to my extremities. None of my guesses had been correct, but there was no relief in seeing what Alec had drawn.

In truth, he hadn't really _drawn_ anything. The entire page was covered in black, traced over and over with thick lines. What troubled me the most was that even the smiley face I had drawn was colored over, and Alec had pressed the crayon so hard that it had ripped through the paper.


	6. Give and Take

**Hey, everyone. Sorry for my little hiatus. I didn't intend to leave you all hanging for such a long time. Just facing some difficulties and struggles in life. Anyway, I have finally written another chapter for you. Not much action yet. Very soon we are going to learn some details about Alec's life as a captive, as well as see a change in Alec and Magnus's relationship. I am going to skip ahead a few months from time to time so you don't have to sit in boredom of all the sappy stuff. But I hope the stuff I'm currently presenting at least gives you some feels. I won't make you wait much longer than I already have. I'd love some feedback! Thanks, guys and gals. **

* * *

><p>The sudden jolt of my body lurched me to wakefulness. I sat up, breathing hard and disorientated. Upon looking around, I realized I was in the guest room. I was on the floor, and the blankets and sleeping bag were twisted around my body in a tangle. Leaning down on one elbow, I peeked under the bed to find Alec sound asleep. Carefully, so as not to wake him, I extracted myself from the sleeping linens and padded down the hallway and into the living room.<p>

Soft illumination from the street lights drifted in through the window. Yawning, I rubbed my eye and then slid my hand back to massage the stiff muscles in my neck. I was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but after the nightmare I'd just had, I felt no desire to go back to sleep.

My feet carried me closer to the window. I stared out into the dark, empty street. It appeared as though all my neighbors were sleeping soundly, undisturbed by nightmares or a broken soul dozing nearby. I was not sure if I envied them, however. Alec had shaken my life of routine, had propelled me into new experiences. Just like him, I was starting anew.

Rustling and a soft moan resonated from the bedroom. I turned to head back before Alec woke and discovered I was gone, but before I made it into the hall, I glanced over at my shoulder at the window. In the farthest corner of my mind, I couldn't help but wonder if Alec's abductors were also looking out a window, searching the darkness for their prized possession, searching for an old life they loved far too much.

* * *

><p>Camille snapped her fingers in front of my face. "Are you even paying attention to me?"<p>

"Huh?" I said drowsily.

Her lips, coated in shiny hot pink gloss, pressed into a thin line. "Either make an effort, Magnus, or find yourself another tutor."

"I'm sorry." I sat up straighter. "One more time, please."

She tossed a few thin books into my lap. "Homework. For you."

"Homework?"

"I want you to read to Alec every night."

I glanced down at the children's titles and felt an awkward tingling in my gut. Reading was a fondness of mine, but I loathed reciting words from a page aloud. My narrative voice was only soothing inside my head. On another note, there was something that felt very. . . paternal about reading to Alec. I wanted him to see me as a friend, not as a parent.

"Camille—"

"Look at him."

I followed her gaze to where Alec was seated in the dining room. Writing materials were sprawled out in front of him. Camille had asked him to try and copy the letters she had written down inside a notebook, but he had not even lifted the pencil. He stared down at the open notebook, his hands in his lap.

"He hasn't even spoken to me," Camille continued in a low voice. "He's not resisting me, but he's shutting me out. We can't expect to make any progress until he trusts me. Having you read to him might get him excited enough to learn to be literate."

"And if that doesn't work?"

Camille shrugged. "I can't force knowledge into Alec's head. He has to be willing to learn these things for himself. Ultimately the decision falls in your hands. You decide whether you should be paying someone else for the possibility of better results."

I nodded and gathered the books from my lap. Alec's session with Dr. Fray started in half an hour, and I wanted to drop by the station quickly to retrieve the picture he had drawn the day before. I wished Alec could spend more than an hour and a half with Camille, but her availability was staggered throughout the week. She was generous enough to offer time early in the morning before her other student arrived. Though spending more time with Camille could impact Alec's progress positively, easing him into the learning process slowly seemed to be the better option for now.

"Alec," I called, standing up. "Ready to go?"

He pushed away from the table all too quickly and rushed to my side.

Camille looked from me down to the books in my hand pointedly, then she turned to Alec. Her smile was warm. "Great work today, Alec. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

Alec gave a brief nod before hurrying out the front door ahead of me. I thanked Camille and bode her farewell before following the teenager outside. He was inside the car with his seatbelt buckled before I even had my door open. I slid in next to him and set the books in the backseat.

"Alec, do you not like Camille?"

There was a pause. "I don't know." He turned and looked out the window, avoiding answering me further.

Without another word, I started the engine and pulled out of the driveway. Traffic was growing dense as people began their commutes to work, but I weaved through the other vehicles skillfully. We reached the station in record time. I pulled into a parking space directly in front of the entrance.

"I just have to run inside for a minute. Will you be all right with waiting here?"

Alec glanced from me to the entrance. His blue eyes darted nervously across the parking lot.

"I won't be long," I promised. "I'll lock the doors, and if you need me just come inside."

Alec's gaze grew panicked. "You're locking me in?"

_Shit._ I hadn't made the connection before I'd spoken. I'd meant to reassure Alec that no one would be able to get to him from the outside, but he thought I was trapping him inside, the same way he had been encaged in a locker by his abductors.

"You can still get out, but no one can get in. You'll be safe."

He seemed to relax slightly, but I guessed he was still going to request to accompany me. It surprised me when he nodded, agreeing to stay behind. I offered an encouraging smile and slid out of the car. The locking mechanism kicked in audibly when I pushed the button on the remote. Without looking over my shoulder, I slipped inside the station and made a beeline for my desk.

The drawing was stashed away in one of my drawers. It took some rifling before I found it. Seeing it again frosted my spine but I folded it and slipped it into the pocket of my jeans. I hurried for the exit, intent on getting back to Alec before he got too anxious, but stopped as I neared Luke's desk.

My partner was on the phone, one hand massaging his eyebrow where a stress headache was no doubt beginning to pound. He muttered into the receiver before hanging up and leaning back in his chair. His eyes lacked their usual gleam and his broad shoulders drooped. Defeat might as well have been written in marker across his forehead.

"What's going on?" I asked.

Luke sighed heavily. "That was the case's forensics team. Rape kits revealed traces of semen on our three victims, so we sent the samples in to be tested."

I kept my face masked and unwavering. The last thing I wanted to think about was Alec suffering through the processes of a rape kit shortly after being rescued.

"Turns out our suspects are not in the system. We're working with brand new criminals."

I felt the cloud of Luke's despondence begin to seep into my skin. "What do we do now?"

"Hodge wants to start interviewing all registered sex offenders in the city. See if they've heard anything through their perverted little grapevines. I doubt they'll be willing to negotiate and work with us, but it beats sitting around twiddling our fingers."

"You'll let me know if you find anything?"

Luke stared me in the eye. "You'll be the first."

I clapped my partner on the shoulder appreciatively and continued on my way to the car. Alec was still in his seat when I slid into the driver's side, his seatbelt still snug around his waist, but his fingers clutched his knees so tightly I could see the white of his bones through his skin. He relaxed into his seat when I started the engine, but the fear never left his eyes. I wanted to tear his clawed hand away from his knee and intertwine his fingers with mine, giving him my strength to clutch onto.

Instead, I settled for whispering, "You did great, Alec."

He turned to face me and I saw doubt brewing in the storm of fear in his eyes. He did not believe me. My words of comfort were not enough.

Would they ever be?

* * *

><p>Dr. Fray finally emerged from her office as I finished my fifth lap of pacing the long hallway. Her expression was halfway between amusement and understanding. I knew I must have looked like some crazed, obsessed client, desperate to see his shrink and unload his endless illogical fears.<p>

"Did he speak to you?" I asked.

"That is between me and my client." Her tone was firm but polite, completely professional.

I reached into my pocket and withdrew the folded picture. Clary hesitated a moment before taking it from my outstretched hand and unfolding it. She studied it carefully, her green eyes lingering on the rip in the top corner.

"Alec drew this yesterday. Do you know what it means?"

"He drew the smiley face as well?"

"No. I drew that. He colored over it."

"Deciphering this is beyond my expertise," Clary admitted. "I could have it sent away to be examined if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary." The less people I had poking and prodding at Alec's brain, the better. "What would be your best interpretation, Dr. Fray?"

Clary examined the picture again. "On one hand, Alec could see the face as himself. He feels smothered by darkness. The color could represent fear and the feeling of being alone. He doesn't know how to separate himself from these negative emotions.

"On the other hand, Alec could feel resentment toward the representation of happiness. That could explain why he drew hard enough to rip the paper. Perhaps in his mind, happiness doesn't or shouldn't exist. Why should others feel happiness when all he knows is darkness inside of him?"

I contemplated that. "Maybe I should ask Alec about it."

Clary handed the picture back to me. "I would advise against that. Drawing is a method for Alec to express what is going on inside his mind, and prying for details might stifle him. I'd like to wait until he is able to communicate verbally with me before discussing his artwork with him. In my experience, patience has always outdone persistence."

"You're the doctor," I said, not rudely.

Clary smiled. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I'll be better prepared for our appointment tomorrow." She turned to head back into her office but stopped when I called her softly by her first name.

"Do you know a lost cause when you see one?"

Clary's eyes softened. She saw straight through the facade of my question and answered, "Do not doubt yourself, Magnus. You've done far more for Alec than you can imagine."

* * *

><p>Alec was quiet for most of the afternoon. He paid little attention to the cartoon on the TV and poked at the soup-cracker mush that sat in the bowl beside him. His behavior concerned me, but, shamefully, I feared what his answer would be if I asked him what was wrong. I wasn't qualified like Clary to give him the answers he needed to hear. Instead, I turned the TV off and asked Alec to get his shoes and coat.<p>

"Where are we going?" he asked.

I zipped up my own jacket and smiled. "You'll see."

The park was not far, about an eight-block walk from my house. Of course, 'not far' was a statement by my standards. Alec, who hadn't gotten much exercise for the past fifteen years, looked about ready for a nap by the time we reached our destination.

Due to the slight chill in the air, there were only a few children climbing around on the playground. They squealed as they chased each other and held races on the slides. Two women sat on a bench nearby, laughing with each other and casting loving glances at their kids.

Alec watched, his expression difficult to read. His eyes lingered on a small boy standing by himself. The faintest smile tugged at Alec's lips when a girl ran up to the boy and tagged him, thus inviting him into their game.

I touched Alec's elbow and motioned for him to follow me. His gaze shifted from me over to the kids and back to me again.

"Follow me," I said gently.

He rubbed his arm. Color flooded into his cheeks, though I knew it was not from the cold. "But. . ."

Without much thought, I reached out and took Alec's hand in mine. His eyes widened at the contact, but he did not pull away from me as I led him over to an unoccupied swing set. I instructed him to sit down and hold on to the chains on either side of him. His movements were slow and unsure but he followed my directions. I positioned myself behind him, pressed my hands against his back, and pushed.

The swing carried Alec forward before guiding him back into my waiting hands. I pushed him again, using slightly more strength to help him gain momentum.

"Swing your legs out when you go forward, and tuck them in when you come back," I instructed gently.

With a couple of tries, Alec began to fall into a rhythm. He began swinging higher, and I continued pushing him. Under my palms I began to feel the loosening of his tight muscles. A laugh even escaped him, which brought a smile to my lips.

Eventually, I seated myself on the swing beside Alec and began to copy his movements. He watched me as I worked to match his height, and a wide smile tugged at his lips when we finally reached synchronization. A glow appeared in his eyes as we swung forward and back in a perfectly matched rhythm.

Seeing him happy spread a warmth through my chest. I wanted to see that genuine smile every day, wanted to hear his laugh as an endless tune. Moreover, I was glad it was me sparking the light inside of him. It felt so rewarding to see him happy rather than trying to hold him together in my arms, trying to hold all his shattered pieces together.

When I looked over again, my brow furrowed to find Alec was barely swinging. His legs were still underneath him and his attention was diverted. Slowing my pace, I followed his line of vision and saw a man, a woman, and a small girl approaching a merry-go-round. The girl jumped onto the platform and grinned as her mother stood behind her, caging her between the bars protectively with her body. They held on, the girl shrieking with delight, as the father began to spin them. Both women laughed as they picked up speed, the father joining in when he gave the mechanism enough of a jolt to teeter his family slightly off balance.

Alec had come to a complete stop. I kicked my heels into the gravel below me to come to rest at his side. His fingers uncurled from around the chains and found their usual spot in his lap.

"Alec?"

He was quiet for a moment before he whispered, "It's my fault."

I left my spot on the swing to stand in front of Alec. He looked past me at the joyful family of three. When a tear slipped from his eye, I crouched down to look up into his face.

"What do you mean?"

"It's my fault they're dead."

I rocked back on my heels as if he'd struck me. "Who?"

"My family."

"Alec, no." I shook my head. "That wasn't your fault. That was an accident."

Alec wiped the tears now freely flowing from his eyes, washing away the happiness that had been there moments before. "It's my fault."

"Why would you think that?"

"They were trying to help me. . . Trying to help other kids like me."

The tragedy of Alec's family had only deepened the pit of hell that was his life. A charity event had been held for missing children and Alec's family had desired to attend on his behalf. Rumor had it that Jace had fallen ill and was unable to attend, but Robert, Maryse, and Isabelle remained adamant on participating. A private jet was provided for them. Halfway through their flight, the engine malfunctioned and sent the aircraft careening downward in a nosedive. The jet exploded upon impact, killing the three Lightwoods and the pilot. Investigators ruled it an accident since the aircraft had not been tampered with and it had passed a thorough inspection before takeoff. Alec, of course, hadn't been able to attend their funeral. At the time, he'd still believed his family was out looking for him, waiting for him to come home.

"They did want to help you, and they wanted to prevent other families from going through the same heartbreak. But their deaths were not your fault, Alec. That was an accident beyond your control. No one could have prevented it."

Alec's eyes, suddenly hollow, fell down to me. "They'd be alive if I hadn't been taken. . . or if I was dead."

I lurched to my feet, barely stifling a gasp. The abrupt movement startled Alec slightly, but he only wiped his eyes again and shrank into himself. My fingers clenched and unclenched as I composed myself. Crouching slightly again, I took Alec's face in my hands and forced him to look at me.

"Don't you ever blame yourself for being taken, Alec. The fault lies with those who decided to snatch a defenceless four-year-old away from his family. I promise you they will be punished for that. But I need you to promise me something. Don't you ever think that you being dead would be better off. Your death would have torn your family to pieces. They would be so proud if they could see you now, so proud of your bravery and the love you showed in protecting Jordan and Simon. A lot would be different if you weren't here now, but not necessarily for the better."

"I won't ever feel their love again."

I wiped his cheeks with my thumbs, the gesture gentle but not intimate. "Their love is reflected in the eyes of others. Other people love you, Alec. Jordan, Simon, Jace. They're your family, and they'll always be there for you."

"Will you be here for me, Magnus?"

I smiled sadly. "For as long as you need me."

* * *

><p>The walk to and from the park had successfully exhausted Alec for the remainder of the evening. We spent the last few hours of the day's light watching cartoons and eating soup and crackers. To take Alec's mind off our discussion in the park, I gave him a small cup of ginger ale and a couple spoonfuls of flavored rice to try. He complained that the soda burned his nose but he shovelled the rice down without protest. I watched him carefully for any signs of digestive discomfort but his stomach seemed to adjust to the new foods well.<p>

It was still early into the night when I caught Alec dozing off on the couch. I gathered the plates and took them to the kitchen. When I returned Alec had snapped awake at the clanking dinnerware and was trying to watch the TV with drowsy eyes.

"Ready for bed?" I asked him.

He hesitated only a moment before nodding. I helped him up from the couch and guided him to the bedroom. As he moved to crawl under the bed, I touched his arm.

"Can we try something different tonight?"

Alec's body snapped to full alert. He whirled to face me, his shoulders tight and his jaw line hard and working. Moving slowly, I crossed the room and grabbed one of Camille's books I had placed on the bedside table.

"I thought we could read a book."

The teenager could not have looked more taken aback. He stared at the book in confusion, trying to piece together the puzzle I had presented him with.

Without waiting for him to answer, I hopped onto the bed and scooted myself until my back rested comfortably against the headboard. Alec eventually let his fear dissipate and crawled onto the mattress beside me. There was space between us, but I could feel Alec's body heat slithering across my skin. Ignoring it, I opened the book on my lap and began to read:

"'The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein.'" I turned the page and felt Alec's eyes follow the direction of my voice as I read the words on the crisp paper. "'Once there was a tree. . . and she loved a little boy. And the boy would come and he would gather her leaves. And make them into crowns and play king of the forest. He would climb up her trunk and swing from her branches and eat apples. And they would play hide and go seek. And when he was tired, he would sleep in her shade. And the boy loved the tree. . . very much. And the tree was happy. But time went by. And the boy grew older. And the tree was often alone.'"

I continued on, as invested in the story as Alec was. He did not criticize how monotonous my voice sounded, nor how my reading was choppy and boring. He followed along intently. Occasionally, out of the corner of my eye, I caught his lips moving as he tried to mimic the sounds of familiar tiny words or single letters. I intentionally kept my pace slow so that he could keep up, but farther into the story he fell silent, neither speaking nor moving.

"'"I am sorry," sighed the tree. "I wish I could give you something. . . But have nothing left. I am just an old stump. I am sorry. . ."

"'"I don't need very much now," said the boy, "just a quiet place to sit and rest. I am very tired."

"'"Well," said the tree, straightening herself up as she could, "well, an old stump is good for sitting and resting. Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the boy did. And the tree was happy. . . The end.'"

As I closed the book, I suddenly became aware of the head resting on my shoulder. I glanced down and found Alec leaning against me, sound asleep. His close proximity astounded me; I thought for sure he wouldn't be able to sleep until he was hidden away under the bed. But I didn't have the heart to wake him. The warmth of him against my side was soothing.

_Don't get too attached, _my conscience warned.

That was advice worth heeding. It was only a matter of time before Jace came back for his brother. Alec would be placed into Jace's care and they would fall back into a life of routine, a life that did not involve me.

Still. . .

Even if it was only temporary, it was nice to feel needed.


	7. The First Time

_**Hi, everyone! Hope y'all had a merry Christmas. As promised, I am back with another chapter. So, there's a little twist at the end of this one. I added a scene from Alec's perspective. I've clearly marked it so you'll know when it switches POVs. I am going to warn you now that that content is fairly disturbing, though it does not go into great detail. If you're easily offended, DO NOT read this chapter (or the last part anyway). I would like to point out (in case it wasn't clearly written), Alec was not 4 when the event took place. He was older. Also, I would kindly like to ask that no one bashes the plot line in their review. Yes, what happened to Alec is heartbreaking and horrible on so many levels, but it is also vital to the story and Alec's character. And it IS just a story. I love getting feedback from as many people as possible, whether it be good or bad. If you do not like what is going on in this story, you do not have to read it. I will not change the plot for anyone. What happens, happens. That being said, if you bawled your eyeballs out or pretended your laptop screen was my face and punched it, I would very much like to hear about it. Reviews are fantastic. Cheers, ladies and gents. **_

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><p>Alec was playing with the cat in the living room when I finally sauntered out from the bathroom, scrubbing a towel against my scalp. He scratched the feline behind the ears before switching his focus to me. His eyes were bright and the dark circles under them had faded slightly. I, on the other hand, must have looked as awful as I felt. Between sitting in an uncomfortable position and trying not to jostle Alec, I'd barely gotten a wink of sleep the night prior. When I'd looked at myself in the mirror after my shower, it was obvious that I had lost a few pounds. In truth, all I wanted for breakfast was a steak, a cold can of beer, and a pint of ice cream. But I would never impose such forbidden luxuries on Alec. Not yet, anyway.<p>

"Good morning," I said, replacing my drowsy frown with a smile.

"Hi." Alec looked away as the cat shoved his head into Alec's palm, demanding attention.

I draped the towel over my shoulder and trudged into the kitchen. After popping four slices of bread into the toaster, I made for the fridge and pulled out the carton of milk. Alec hadn't yet appeared, so I stole a drink directly from the jug. I was wiping my mouth with the back of my hand when he crept into the kitchen.

"Breakfast is almost ready," I announced, setting the milk back inside the fridge.

Alec nodded, dark strands of hair bobbing in front of his eyes. "Okay."

I closed the fridge door and leaned my hip against it. "Everything all right?"

He nodded in response, but the movement was stiff and hurried. Maintaining my casual demeanour, I passed by Alec to grab some plates for our toast. I could feel his eyes on my back, but when I turned around he hastily averted his gaze.

"What's on your mind?"

The cat pranced into the kitchen and began weaving himself in between my guest's legs, which seemed to offer Alec some comfort.

Though he still avoided my eyes, he asked, "What are we doing today?"

"Well, Camille is expecting us this morning, and then you have your appointment with Dr. Fray afterwards." I bent down and tried to coax the cat over to me, but he stuck up his nose and continued making figure eights around Alec's feet. The traitor_._ The toaster popping spared my dignity and allowed me to turn my back on the feisty feline. "I thought we'd go to the mall when you're finished. You can pick out some new clothes."

"I have clothes."

"I know that, but I'd like to let you pick out some styles that _you_ like."

Through the fabric of my t-shirt, I felt a set of thin, timid fingers touch my waist. I froze, my eyes wide and my heart in a frenzy.

"Do you want me to pay you back?" Alec whispered, his breath nearly tickling the back of my neck.

"That," I deftly slipped out from in between Alec and the counter, away from his touch, "will not be necessary."

Troubled, I went in search of butter, pretending not to notice it was sitting in plain sight back on the countertop. As I stuck my face into the cool breath of the refrigerator, I contemplated Alec's behavior. He'd made subtle suggestions before, always asking me what sort of payment I desired, but he'd never been suggestive through physical touch. I'd be lying if I said I did not find Alec attractive. He was truly stunning with his dark hair and light eyes, and the kind shyness about him made him no less desirable. But he had not yet grown into his nineteen-year-old self. He'd gained a couple of pounds since I'd taken him in, but not enough to dull the angles in his face, in his collar bones, in his wrists. I swore he'd even gained a couple inches in height, though he still only stood up to my shoulder. Moreover, with Alec's mentality in the state that it was currently in, I could only view physical intimacy as taking advantage of him. I was not yet sure if there were any romantic prospects in the way that Alec viewed me. Disturbingly enough, he seemed ready to turn our companionship up a notch. Not that I could fault him, what with all the sexual training he'd been put through. But that did not mean that _I _was ready.

"Magnus?"

"Ah! There it is!" I exclaimed, feigning surprise as I looked over and spotted the butter sitting in its anointed spot. I closed the fridge and busied myself with putting the spread on our toast.

"Magnus?"

I turned and handed Alec his plate. He stared down at his breakfast as I shoved nearly an entire slice into my mouth. I almost choked as I forced the lump of barely-chewed toast down my throat. Between the dry taste in my mouth and the lingering spark of Alec's fingers on my hip, my appetite had no reason to stick around. I pushed the last piece of toast away and noticed Alec still staring at his untouched breakfast.

"Do you want something else to eat?" I asked

He shook his head and carefully set his plate back on the counter. "I wanted to ask you..."

"Yes?" I prompted, secretly dreading his question.

"Can we go to my house?"

I blanched. That was certainly not a question I'd been awaiting. "Jace put your house up for sale a long time ago, Alec. There's a chance that someone else has already moved in."

Alec lifted his eyes to meet mine. "I just want to see it again. I can't remember what it looks like."

I knew taking him to see his childhood home could be potentially harmful to Alec. If the house had been demolished, his heart would feel the same effect. Seeing a different family living there could also devastate him, but refusing his request flat out was even worse. I didn't want to take this opportunity away from him, not when doing so could make him feel like a prisoner again.

"I'll make a few calls and see what I can do, okay?"

Alec nodded, his eyes sparkling.

"Eat your breakfast." I began making my way to my bedroom, but stopped in the hallway and called over my shoulder. "Please!"

But I could hear the scrape of a plate against the counter over my last word. Alec had, after all, been trained in following commands obediently and instantly. Why would my demand be any different?

And that question made me feel disgusting down to my very core.

* * *

><p>Alec's sessions with Camille and Clary had been uneventful yet again. He seemed to take more of an interest when Camille read to him, though he did not attempt any of his own reading or writing. When she spoke to him out of context of a book, he was unresponsive. His time with Clary, as far as I guessed, had been spent in complete silence. Dr. Fray did inform me that she now planned to keep paper and crayons available for her sessions with Alec for the foreseeable future. She also promised that any pictures Alec drew would be shared with me, as per Alec's discretion. She planned to take pictures of the originals to keep on hand in her office, and his drawings would be done with as he pleased. When she accompanied him outside her office, she handed me a paper half covered in red and half covered in blue. I immediately thought of the red and blue police lights flashing in the darkness the night I had carried Alec in my arms, recuing him from the hellhole where nightmares were made real.<p>

"This is great, Alec," I complimented, gripping the paper tightly.

The teenager shrugged in response, searching for the exit pointedly.

"Well, gentlemen," Clary said cheerily, smiling at both of us, "it appears as though tomorrow is our last session before the weekend. You have done extremely well so far, Alec."

Alec shrugged again, careful to avoid Clary's green eyes. Still smiling, she turned to me. I folded the picture and tucked it away in my pocket before looking at her under the rim of my ball cap.

"You're looking a bit haggard, Mr. Bane," she commented.

I'd dressed in a pullover hoodie and a pair of jeans, topping the outfit off with a hat so I wouldn't have to fuss with my hair. I didn't think I looked _that_ bad, even if there were faint shadows under my eyes.

"I'm fine. Just missed my morning coffee fix," I lied.

She folded her arms and nodded, looking rather unconvinced. "I have time if you ever need someone to talk to."

I thanked her and began steering Alec toward the exit. We hurried out of the office building and back to my car, where I pulled into the morning traffic and headed towards the mall. It was the same strip mall I'd gone to to pick out Alec's current wardrobe, but the prices were decent and I could count on there being a lack of crowds to make Alec nervous.

After parking, Alec and I headed into the nearest clothing store. He stayed firmly at my side, his eyes downcast, as I steered him toward the men's department. Every once in a while he would look up, just in time to catch another customer staring at him. Nobody said anything, though I could see the questions poised on all their lips: _Is that Alexander Lightwood? The boy who was kidnapped for fifteen years?_ I willed them to look away as Alec ducked farther into my side, nearly walking sideways.

I pulled Alec behind some racks of clothing and inspected him closely. He was nervous, but there were no signs of an impending panic attack.

"They're staring at me," he whispered.

I could hear the hurt in his voice. Not only was he threatened by the prying eyes of strangers, he was feeling the sting of their gazes as well. There was a reason I had only told a select few about my sexuality. I did not want to feel cornered and humiliated under the stares that followed me like I was some kind of freak, some twisted, unnatural human being. I never wanted to feel that way, and I'd be damned if I stood by and let Alec suffer through it.

In a smooth motion, I pulled the cap from my head and slid it onto Alec's mop of ebony hair. His eyes widened as he looked up at me in surprise. I took the opportunity to move his bangs gently and pulled the visor down a bit to help conceal his face. The slightest dip of his head would hide his features instantly.

I shook my fingers in my hair, messing up the flattened strands. "Better?"

"Thanks."

We continued on in search of jeans, which I piled into my arms when we located them. I then had Alec pick out some t-shirts, both long and short sleeved, that caught his eye. Mostly he picked up solid colors: grays, dark blues, and black. I attempted to sway him out of 'boring' with plaid flannel shirts and graphic tees. The only one that convinced him was a purple tee with a black graphic designed to make it look like there were headphones wrapped around the wearer's neck.

From there, I shuffled Alec to the fitting room. He seemed hesitant on the idea of going inside and changing out of his clothes, but I assured him that no one would see him and I'd be waiting outside when he was finished. With my back turned to the door, I listened to the zipping and unzipping of jeans and the soft sound of cotton shirts falling to the floor.

As I waited, something caught my eye. It hung on a rack nearby, surrounded by coats and jackets. It was the only item of its kind, which led me to believe it had been placed on the rack by accident. I picked it up and held the soft material in my hands, stroking my thumbs over it as I drank in the color that was so familiar.

"Magnus?"

I whirled around, having not heard the fitting room door open. Alec stood behind me, the hat still firmly placed on his head. But now he was clad in a pair of dark jeans and a smoke gray long sleeve t-shirt. It was all I could do to not let my jaw drop to the floor. The jeans fit just right and the shirt barely skimmed his body, leaving enough room for him to grow but not drowning him in material. In truth, I'd never seen Alec look so handsome.

"Wow," I breathed. "You look great."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile. I walked over to him and looped the scarf around his neck. He watched as I tied it and smoothed the material against his chest. When he looked up, I couldn't help but smile. Just as I'd predicted, the scarf matched his eyes.

Alec wrapped his hand around his throat, his fingers brushing his skin under the scarf. "This will hide them."

"Huh?" I said, distracted by the ensemble in front of me.

"It hides the scars."

I hadn't really thought about it, but the scarf did, in fact, cover the red bumps surrounding Alec's neck. The only ones visible now were the ones at the front of his throat, but if the scarf was knotted tighter, they would all be hidden completely.

Smiling, I stepped forward and lifted the scarf up and over Alec's head. I placed the material in his upturned palms and lifted the rim of his cap slightly so he could see me better. "Your scars are nothing to be ashamed of. I don't want you to feel like you have to hide them, but until you're ready to show them to the world, you can always use this."

Alec's lips parted, as if he were about to say something, but he was cut short when three young ladies walked by us, laughing. They were all huddled over the screen of a phone, making silly comments and then erupting into giggles. Having broken up my fair share of university parties, I guessed them to be about Alec's age. They had a student air about them: carefree, invincible, and ready for a good time. Alec watched them, his face blank and disinterested as the three walked away.

Not long after, two guys, a blonde and a brunette, followed after the girls. They laughed as the blonde cracked a joke, guffawing with a booming masculinity that demanded to be heard.

The brunette noticed us as they passed by and flicked his chin out at Alec, calling out a casual, "What's up?"

I inclined my head in greeting and watched them chase after the group of girls. When I looked down, I noticed the blossoming of color in Alec's cheeks. I'd never seen Alec blush under a woman's attention, not Cat or Clary or the three girls that had just walked by. But a guy had put color in Alec's pale cheeks just by saying two little words. _Interesting_.

Alec went back to trying on clothes and I went back to giving my opinion on said clothes, noting what was too big and what was too small. In the end, we brought three pairs of jeans and numerous shirts to the checkout. Thankfully Alec had liked the purple shirt enough to add it to the pile and gray and blue and black. The scarf, after it was scanned and freed of its price tag, found its place wrapped around Alec's neck. I paid and we left, but Alec's blush still hadn't faded by the time we got home.

* * *

><p>The phone rang three times before Luke picked up. "How's it going, B?"<p>

"Fine thanks," I answered. "How's the investigation?"

"Brutal. No leads, no solid evidence. We're basically walking around in a blind circle."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Nothing we haven't already thought of." Phones rang distantly on Luke's end of the line. "How's the kid?"

I glanced over at Alec, who was sitting on the couch watching cartoons and eating lunch. "He's enduring. Listen, I need to ask a favor from you."

"Just in time. I've been craving free donuts."

I smiled. "I need you to bring up Alec's file and find out the address of his old house."

"Hang on." The sound of fingers on a keyboard filled the spaces between ringing phones. Luke recited the address slowly enough for me to write it down. "It says here that it's still up for sale. Some realtor is looking after it."

"Do you have a name?"

"I've got a first name and a phone number."

I copied down the information and checked the time. If I was lucky enough, I'd be able to contact this man today and set up a meeting.

Luke's voice filled my ear again. "You think going back to his old house will jog the kid's memory?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "He said he just wanted to see it."

"Well, good luck."

"Thanks, Luke. Same to you."

"I'll be expecting those donuts soon."

"You can count on it."

We hung up and I immediately began dialing the realtor's number. It rang a couple times before a man's voice filled the phone, his tone strong but friendly:

"Wolf Realty. How can I help you?"

"Uh, is—" I checked the name on the paper again. "—Alaric available?"

"Speaking."

"Hi, this is Officer Magnus Bane. Are you the current caretaker for the Lightwood house?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "I am, yes."

"Excellent. Alexander Lightwood has requested to see the house. Would it be possible to set up a date to meet with you?"

"Alexander. . ." Alaric sucked in a breath, then added hurriedly. "No need to set up an appointment! I can meet you over there right now if you'd like."

"Oh." I blinked. "Er, all right. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Officer. I'll see you shortly."

I disconnected the call and wandered back into the living room. Alec looked up at me, his fingers fidgeting with the scarf still looped around his neck.

"Still want to see your house?" I asked.

He nodded.

"All right. Let's go."

* * *

><p>Alec's house wasn't so much a house as it was a mansion. It was an unexpected thirty minute drive, all the way to the outskirts of the city. Following the GPS on my phone, I turned left onto a long driveway. At the end of the driveway was a massive house, modern and inviting from the outside. Alec leaned forward in his seat, tilting his head back to see out from under the rim of his cap. I'd thrown on my uniform to reinforce my identity with the realtor.<p>

A car waited for us in front of the house. I pulled up behind it just as a slender man in a suit exited the vehicle. He straightened his jacket and, without approaching, waited for us to get out and greet him. He was tall, with graying hair and light eyes. He stood with his back straight and his hands clasped in front of him, confident without being arrogant.

I looked over at Alec. "Are you ready?"

He was looking out the passenger window at the house, but I saw him swallow hard and reach for the door handle with a shaking hand. I slid out of the car and waited until Alec was at my side before walking over to Alaric.

"Officer Bane." He smiled and extended his hand.

"Alaric." I shook his hand and gestured to Alec. "This is Alec Lightwood."

He extended his hand to the teenager. "Nice to meet you."

Alec sidled closer to me, looking away from Alaric's hand to the house looming over him. Alaric, unoffended by Alec's behavior, pulled his hand back and reached into his pocket. He withdrew a key and handed it to me.

"I'll wait outside. Feel free to take as long as you need."

"Thank you."

I began making my way to the front door with Alec in tow. An eeriness settled over me as I noticed the darkness in the windows. The house, though appearing inviting, felt empty even from the outside. I knew without opening the door that it was be cold inside, that there would be hardly, if any, furniture.

I was just about to slide the key into the lock when I noticed Alec was no longer at my side. Glancing over my shoulder, I found him watching me nearly ten feet away. His shoulders rose and fell rapidly as he sucked in gasps of air.

"Alec?"

He flinched as I called his name. "I-I can't!" He turned and took off in a run down the driveway.

I cursed under my breath and jogged up to Alaric, handing the key back to him. "I'm sorry."

I didn't wait for a reply before taking off after Alec. It did not take long for me to catch up to him, but I had to reach out and grab his wrist before he stopped. His head was ducked but I could see the tracks of tears down his cheeks.

"Hey," I said gently, "what's wrong?"

"I can't."

My hand moved from his wrist up to his shoulder. "What are you afraid of?"

"I still don't remember!" he cried. "I'm scared that if I go in there my memory won't come back. That house is supposed to be mine. It's not supposed to be strange. And it hurts knowing that my family won't be in there if I go inside. That just means that they're really dead."

"Alec—"

"I can't, Magnus!" His hysteria escalated to the point where I could hear the familiar wheezing. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I can't!"

"Look at me." I took his face in my hands, just like I'd done before.

"I. . . Can't. . . Breathe," he gasped.

"Breathe in through your nose. Remember?"

This time it only took one demonstration for Alec to catch on. He followed my soothing coaching until his panic attack subsided. When he was finally calm and in control of his breathing, I enveloped him in my arms and held him tight. He clutched the front of my shirt, his tears soaking into my uniform. The visor of his hat was poking uncomfortably into my chest, but I dared not push him away to adjust it.

"Magnus? Will you take me home?"

"Of course," I whispered, warmth spreading through my heart when I considered the fact that Alec's idea of home now included me.

* * *

><p><em><span><strong>Alec<strong>_

Dr. Fray was sitting at her desk when I walked into her office. Her red hair was pinned up today. I could see her eyes better, and that made her very pretty.

"Good morning, Alec," she said, the same way she always did.

The table was sitting in front of my chair again, as it had been yesterday. Dr. Fray told me she wanted me to draw whatever I felt like drawing. She never said much, but she was always writing. I wished I could write like her. Maybe if I wasn't so stupid. . .

I sat down and dug through the crayon box for a particular color. When I found it, I grabbed a piece of paper and began dragging the crayon across the white surface. My hand whipped left and right, suffocating the white with black. Even when there was not a speck of white left, I kept coloring. I pushed the crayon until my hand hurt. . .

I stopped. Dr. Fray glanced up from her writing and caught my eye.

"Alec?"

Words bubbled up in my throat. There were so many things I wanted to tell her, but they were embarrassing and scary. I wasn't supposed to tell her, or anyone, anything. Bad things would happen if I told.

But before I could stop myself, I whispered, "It hurt."

Dr. Fray's eyes went wide, just for a second. "What hurt?"

My heart pounded in my chest, so hard and fast I could feel it in my ears and in my throat. That happened sometimes. My heart beat so fast and it was hard to breathe and I got dizzy. But Magnus always made that go away. Magnus made the bad memories go away, too.

"Alec?" Dr. Fray's voice interrupted my thoughts. "What were you going to say?"

I started coloring again. She never yelled at me when I didn't talk. She never hit me, either. I didn't want her to know I was thinking about the first time. The first time he had ever touched me.

He'd made me do things before that. Embarrassing things that made me feel bad. Wrong. Dirty. Disgusting. But I knew that time was going to be different. I was young, but I knew what he was going to do the moment I saw the mattress. I'd been with them for a long time, years maybe, and he said he couldn't wait any longer. He made me get on my hands and knees, and I felt his body push up behind me. His body was big and heavy and hard. He whispered dirty things in my ear. His breath was hot on my neck.

He kind of rocked up against me. It felt weird. Bad. Wrong. That was when he reached around and put his hand down the front of my pants. I told him no, tried to get away. I cried because even though it felt wrong, it sort of started to feel good. But I didn't want it to.

Then he pushed my pants down. I heard him unzip his jeans and I felt something push against my behind. I tried fighting him, but that only made him mad. His partner liked it when I fought, but not this one. He told me to keep still, to stop making such a fuss when it felt so good.

That was when he pushed into me.

I screamed. I didn't know it was possible to scream that loud, but it hurt so bad. . . I'd never felt pain like that in my entire life. Until he pulled out and pushed in again. It didn't feel good anymore. I kept screaming, and he told me he liked it when I used my voice like that. And he kept on going. And it never stopped hurting.

The paper was now darker than my nightmares, but I kept on coloring. My arm was getting tired from moving so fast and my hand was hurting from pressing so hard, but the pain felt right. I deserved it. I was messed up, after all. A freak. There was no other way to explain why the next time he did it to me, it stopped hurting and started to feel good.

Tears slipped from my cheeks and splattered on the paper. I colored over those, too, because I deserved the pain. I deserved the darkness.


	8. To My Readers

**Hello, everyone. A lot of you have been nothing but kind and supportive to me for the time that Sacrifice has been around. Because I appreciate what you've done for me, I think you all have the right to be alerted that I am going to take a break from writing any more chapters for Sacrifice. This is not because I am suffering from writer's block; in fact, I know exactly how the story is going to end and what is going to happen next. The reason is that I have received several concerned reviews, and one that I found to be very hurtful. I am a firm believer in constructive criticism, but now I feel as though _I_ am being judged, not my work. It's just a damn story, one that has pushed me out of my own comfort zone. Some people just aren't handling it well.**

**I do not intent to be dramatic about this. Writers need to develop a tough skin, to accept the good and the bad, and that you cannot please everyone. That being said, there are many complications in my life at the moment, and struggling with added negativity against my writing is not helping my situation. My writing is the one method I have to express myself freely, to lay all of my emotions on paper for everyone to see. Writing is my escape. Today, it felt like I was slapped in the face by a complete stranger.**

**So it is with regret that I say I do not know when Sacrifice will be updated again. It is in my best interest to take a break and focus on my illness and other hardships staring me in the face. I wish you all the very best in the New Year. To all the other readers and writers out there, don't stop what you're doing!**

**Thank you to all of you who have supported me! Hugs to all.**

**Cheers, and happy reading.**

**R.**


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